The Masochism Tango
by twitchytwain
Summary: AU/AH: She trades in sex and secrets. He trades stocks and bonds. She's the belle of New York and he's the wolf of Wall Street. When they meet its a pleasure without consience, a reckless worship of lust and desire. But all complex desires have a price.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: The Masochism Tango**

 **Summary: She trades in sex and secrets. He trades stocks and bonds. She's the belle of New York and he's the wolf of Wall Street. When they meet it's a pleasure without conscience, a reckless worship of lust and desire. But all complex inclinations have a price.**

 **Rating: M**

 **Pairing: Endgame Bonnie and Kai**

 **A/N: Dark Bonnie/Dark Kai but all dark things must seek light eventually…If you have a strong moral compass, this fic might not be suitable for you.**

 **-oooo-**

 _I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,_

 _in secret, between the shadow and the soul_

 _-Pablo Neruda_

 **-ooo-**

 **-BLACKEN MY EYE, SET FIRE TO MY TIE-**

 **-** **ooo-**

Life is too short, that's why you need a short cut for everything.

"Take Broadway, its faster." She tells her driver then leans back into the cushy leather seat of the town car. They drive past an art gallery with cool white walls and a scattering of installations. She watches people move from painting to painting, circulating the sterile space and mindful of steel sculptures jutting from the wooden floor.

She flinches when a bike messenger slaps the side of her door before pushing off into the belly of traffic. She's been away from New York for too long but it hasn't changed. Manhattan is still composed of stand-still traffic, the ineffectual hooting of yellow cabs and the hostile New York sidewalks.

"….EBay stock dropped 4 percent after the company issued a…" a voice streams from the radio before she closes the glass pane between the drivers compartment and herself. She loves New York in spring though; everything dazzles from the asphalt stretching before them to the sunlight glinting off car hoods. She tips her head toward the sunroof and squints at the Trump Tower soaring above them. Wall Street captures the spirit of New York. It's so raw, vulgar and greedy that she can almost smell gluttony in its filthy, exhaust-pipe air. Her mobile phone vibrates in her fold-over clutch bag. Pulling the phone out, she scans the screen and her lips edge into a slight smile.

" _Monsieur_ Vanchure" she greets with an air of professionalism in case it's his wife who's dialed her number.

"Carla, "he purrs into her ear trying to incite some excitement from her. Bonnie plays her part by offering him a few bashful giggles. His name is Thierry Vanchure. She met him at Flavio Briatore's party in Cannes last spring and he is an avid fan of pegging.

" _Ca va_?"

" _Je suis bon, cherie_ "

"I miss you, _Jolie_ Bonnie"

"I miss you too, darling" she sighs, examining her polished nails.

"I'll be in town in two weeks and I'd love to see you"

"That can be arranged" she promises and they talk about Paris for a while, they discuss the current shows on Broadway and he mentions something about seeing the Ginger Roger's musical when he's in town and she vows to see him.

After the phone call, she peers out of the window yet again and reapplies her rouge. She glances at her vintage Breitling watch again; she'll make it in time she reckons. She's missed working in Manhattan, missed the ignoramus, power hungry bankers who make up Wall Street. She can't fault them though because as flawed as they are, they always made up the bulk of her business. Like now, her appointment at the Waldorf Astoria is with an oil trader, a referral from a client she met during her stay in London. Marcel told her that he was a friend of a friend who was in town on business and like most men who venture into strange cities, was looking for _company._

Most of her clients come from referrals; it's all about building a good client base so that she doesn't have to market herself anymore. She fingers the locket around her neck, tracing the chain along her collarbone to rub the pendant that hangs down her décolletage. She used to love the anonymity of the industry but now she has played so many roles that she has started to forget the identity of the real Bonnie. Clients buy into an idea when they buy her time and so she becomes whoever they need her to be. She was never sexually abused, never grew up in a foster home in fact some would say she had quite a pleasant upbringing. She was born and bred in Park Avenue, attended Chapin School before moving to London to spread her wings. She studied international law at Oxford and her father is a lawyer for the United Nations. She often laughs when her clients ask, _why_ and simply replies, _why the fuck not?_

When they finally arrive at the Waldorf, her driver comes around to open the door for her and she slips out of the vehicle, a light breeze picking up her curled hair.

"Should I wait?" Harold asks, taking off his chauffer's hat. She doesn't hide what she does from her driver, nor does she discuss it but he knows that his standard waiting time is two hours when she sees clients.

"Wait ten minutes, if I don't like him then you can go and have lunch or something"

-ooo-

She locates the elevators to her right; being quite familiar with the lay of the land. She waltzes past the gleaming dark-wood desks and ornate marble pillars, her stilettos clanking on the granite floor. When she finds his penthouse suite, she raps her knuckles on the door twice and then waits patiently for the client to open for her. The door swings open and she's caught in a pair of sensitive eyes, slicked back brown hair and a strong jaw. He's attractive, she thinks as her eyes take him in.

"You must be Carla" his eyes sweep over her, careful not to linger on the inappropriate places. Bonnie thinks this is rather charming since they are both meeting for purposes of sweaty, passion filled sex.

"In the flesh" she grins, leaning her weight against the doorframe.

"Please, come in"

" _Konnichiwa"_ she smiles, regarding his blue kimono with curious eyes as she saunters inside the mammoth space. Her eyes flit over luxurious champagne drapes, thick oriental carpets and velvet wing chairs.

"I was in Tokyo for some investment meeting. I find these rather comfortable, "he explains as he pulls at the stiff collar of his kimono, "I hope you don't mind"

"Not at all, it makes my expedition far more enjoyable" she smiles, tracing a finger along the seams of his robe until her hand settles on its belt. Her green eyes stay fixed on his, observing the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows. She can tell that he favors subtle seduction over direct manipulation.

"I'm Elijah" he says with a quiet, unassuming nod of his head.

"The pleasure's all mine" her hand rubs his forearm, the electric buzz of fabric and skin shooting sparks through her veins.

"Well," he clears his throat, "make yourself at home" he gestures to the space and at no fixed point particularly. As Bonnie's eyes flicker from him to her surroundings, he coughs in the awkward silence.

"We should probably settle the matter of your gift first" he says as if reading the situation and Bonnie nods, "If it's not too much of an imposition"

"Not at all" he walks to the nearest drawer, pulls a gilded handle and slides the thing open. Plucking out a white envelope, he hands it to her with a reserved smile.

"Thank you" she bites her bottom lip, then quickly adds, "I need the little girl's room"

After he shows her a restroom close to the exit, Bonnie slips inside and presses her hips against the dark-wood cabinet weighing my face in the gilded mirror. She feels the weight of the envelope before opening it. Inside, in neat little rows is her fee for her companionship. She takes out the wad of cash and counts it, assembling it into neat piles of five hundred dollars. The notes equal to four stacks of five hundred dollar bills which totals to two thousand dollars for her two hour minimum fee.

"May I offer you a drink?" Elijah asks behind the door.

"Double bourbon" she opens a faucet to muffle the noise for she is about to do, "make that a triple"

She takes out her small bag of cocaine, two credit cards then makes two skinny little lines. She leans over the basin; a neat hundred dollar bill rolled up in her hand and shoots a beautiful line. Titling her head back, she feels that glorious tickle down her throat. Cocaine surges through her body like a hurricane. Fuck those whores who say they don't drink when they're working, no self-loving escort would fuck a total stranger sober minded, she doesn't care how liberal you are. She polishes her nostrils with her manicured fingers, grins at her reflection and steps out to entertain Elijah.

She scans the room, discreetly checking for any recording equipment before she stalks over to him. He's already seated in one of the massive wing chairs, a glass of alcohol in one hand. Unbuttoning her silk shirt, Bonnie lets it slide over her shoulders. His eyes follow it as if glides to the floor, rippling on the carpet like an undulating black tide. Next, she unzips her pencil skirt and gives him a full view of her ass as she bends over to slide the fabric down her legs. His eyes burn her back, glisten with anticipation as she begins to sway to the music in her head. She tosses her dark hair back and glances at him over her shoulder, a seductive smile playing across her lips. His eyes roam over the smooth lines of her back, past the undulating muscles to the suspenders snaking over her hips.

Turning around, she plants both hands on her hips and asks him, "Do you like what you see?"

" _Hai, anata wa hijo ni yo utsukushidesu_ "

" _Arigato_ " she purrs and strolls over to him, one foot after the after like a cat stalking its prey.

"Is this your first time?" she asks, raking a hand through his silky hair. She likes the feel of it around her fingers; it's like she's stroking a feline's fur.

"No" he tells her, his gaze roving her breasts. She can tell that he's content, that he likes women playing with his hair and Bonnie reckons it stems with his mother and suckling at her breasts. It always stems from the mothers, all her client's diseases, all their passions and obsessions can be traced back to the mother.

"Do you like it soft and slow" she flicks a tongue over her lower lip, "or hard and rough "She plants a spikey heel on his chest, pressing it against his clammy flesh. Elijah looks up at her with big watery eyes and she can tell that he's holding back. She straddles him, strong thighs helming him in as she cradles his face with her hands.

"Elijah, "she breathes against his lips, intertwining her fingers in that hair that she's grown to like. He kisses her first, hands sliding down her back until they slither down to grip her lush buttocks. Bonnie moans into the kiss as her fingers tangling in his hair. Her kiss seems to breathe fire to him and Elijah bolts up and carries her to the big, sprawling bed. He wraps his arms around her much like a lover, he hisses against her neck but his eyes beg for something that even he cannot admit to himself.

"You feel so fucking good" he groans, raising her knee and anchoring it on his hip. Bonnie moves against him, draping her rented arms around him until his silent, restrained release.

-ooo-

She drapes a terry cloth robe around her body, tightening the belt until it feels snug around her waist. Looking out the penthouse window at the rush of Manhattan, Bonnie takes a slow sip of her bourbon and feels the dying bursts of coke leaving her body. It never lasts, she thinks, it's not the same. She spots Elijah's reflection in the glass, notices the way his eyes sweep over her and smiles.

"You're very beautiful" he says, walking over to her "Can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead"

"Not to pry or anything but why are you doing this?" he arches an eyebrow and Bonnie can feel herself wilt a little bit. He had such promise, she thinks as Elijah quickly explains "You seem like a pleasant-"

"…Descent girl with so much potential?" she gives him a throaty chuckle, her fingers gliding to her necklace again.

"You must get sick of that question" he rubs a thumb along the rim of his glass and she chooses not to argue.

"Why are _you_ doing this?" She asks instead and grabs his hand to places it on swell of her breast. When his fingertips trace the swell of her puckered nipple, she knows that he's cured of his sanctimonious delusions-even if it lasts a mere fifteen minutes.

-ooo-

Kai wants to bash her head against the table until she bleeds into the starch white table. He'd like to see her blood spew over the table and color the monochrome tiles with it. This vulgar thought makes his skin tingle. Damon Salvatore says something about the aviation IPO being favorable in the green market and Kai imagines the client's wife bent over the table as he plunges into her. He wouldn't say that he finds her attractive because he can hardly see her beyond the confines of her hijab dress but the fact that he cannot objectify her in a proper manner infuriates him.

She laughs behind her veil but her eyes seek him, always seek him while they're taunting him. He wants to hurt her; he knows this because ever since he was little he's had a deep desire to hurt things. Money and Wall Street have taught him that he can hurt things; he just needs to pay a shitload of money so they can be fixed. His grips his glass of water firmer in his hand as his eyes dart from Damon to their client. Silently, he checks his watch and makes a mental note to ask Isobel for an English Rose tonight, he wants to see the bruises on her skin. He wants to appreciate the art he sculpts with his whip on her alabaster flesh. His fiancé, Rebekah Mikaelson is English but she's as appealing as a wet rag.

"Mr. Abbar, we're talking about solar powered airliners, I think we can safely say the mile high club has never looked this good" Kai lifts his glass, blue-grey eyes glinting at the client.

No one can sell bullshit like him, no one. He closes all the time and he owns Wall Street, the Trader knows it and Wall Street Journal knows it. Kai Parker knows how to play the market and he has yet to meet anyone who can beat him.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Hello, my lovelies and thank you for the reviews and follows. Please note that this fic is AU and AH. I usually write all human, alternative universe stuff…**_

 **-oOo-**

 **-THE GASH YOU MADE WITH YOUR WHIP-**

 **-** **oOo-**

Does the devil pray, Kai wonders. Does he crave redemption or does he relish in his debauchery.

His thumb traces the edge of the embossed business card, its black with an intricate calligraphy for their tagline.

" _Fleur-de-li"_ he reads then quietly looks around his office. He can see the charging bronze bull from the arched window behind his desk. It's a corner office in an immaculate building; he even has his name on the door. He's come far for a boy from Oregon. He's come far for a boy who used to live off food stamps and his father's weekly wages from the mill. He doesn't miss Oregon, doesn't miss the smell of rotting timber and the smell of tobacco and whiskey wafting off his father at three am on a Friday night.

He loves New York and most days he loves his life. And then there's Rebekah. Her family's loaded but he doubts that's the only reason he's with her. There was something between them once upon a time, some fire before he discovered that all she wanted was a white picket fence and a couple of babies. They're young, he thinks, barely in their mid-thirties and a kid is the last thing he wants. Picking up his cellphone, he dials the number on the business card. He's called it enough to know the digits off by heart but reading it off the card makes the novelty last a while longer.

" _Fleur-de-lis_ , whatever you desire "a female voice answers, a practiced drawl that streams over the line. She has a restrained Boston accent that has been skillfully trained to sound more cultured.

"Lexi, I'd like to place an order" he tells her, swiveling around in his high back leather chair.

"You mean you'd like to make an appointment" she corrects him patiently and Kai rolls his eyes,

"Whatever" he sighs, biting his lower lip.

"And your name sir?"

"Really?" he arches an eyebrow, running a finger along his open laptop.

"Any specifications for your starlet?" there isn't one air of sarcasm as she purrs the word _starlet_ and Kai silently commends her for her professionalism.

"I was thinking a Rita Hayworth"

"She's not available this evening sir. Would you like to sample Shirley Temple, Josephine Baker or Joan Fontaine, perhaps?"

He shakes his head when he hears the selection because his mouth is already watering at the prospect of leaving bruises on ashen white skin, the color of an Oregon winter. "I want a redhead or a blonde, milky skin, soft…" he says firmly before Lexi interrupts.

"I believe our Veronica Lake is available"

"Thank you, the Carlyle hotel and let's say six pm." He grins, assured of a magnificent evening.

Damon taps a knuckle to his door as he ends the phone call and Kai wonders why Anna, his secretary had not alerted him about the visit.

"Hey" Damon nods, his signature look of unruly raven hair and a bristled jaw looking out of place in an investment bank on a Tuesday morning.

"Hey, any word on the IPO pitch?" Kai points to a chrome and leather sit in front of his massive desk.

"Yeah, Mr. Abbar wants to sign"

"Nothing but net!" Kai pounds the desk with his fist. He loves winning; it's the closest thing to a cocaine high or an impassioned orgasm.

"We still on for tonight?" Damon enquires and Kai knits his eyebrows. He's already made plans tonight and he's not about to disappoint Veronica Lake or his faithful whip.

"Tonight?"

"Yeah, poker night. We're going over Stefan's plans for his bachelor party"

"Ah shit, "he starts and Damon presses his lips together, "Rebekah has this dinner thing with her brother, Elijah"

"Hey, no worriers. I would have cleaned you out anyway."

-oOo-

Bonnie likes to lie in most mornings. She likes the way the sun feels on her face as it filters into her bedroom. She doesn't have drapes on her bedroom windows; she doesn't see the need for them as her Soho loft is several feet off the ground. Emily, her sister calls her an exhibitionist and Bonnie always smiles because Em doesn't know how right she is. Even though her sister doesn't know what she does, Bonnie believes that she has had her suspicions but she sticks to calling Bonnie a party girl. They are relatively close, considering the fact that they have different mothers. Abby, Bonnie's mother died when she was little and Rudy Hopkins remarried. That's how her half-sister came to be. Slowly, she cracks her eyes open and kicks the cotton sheets to her feet until they lie rumpled at the foot of the bed. The shrill peal of her cellphone jerks her body awake and she falls off her bed. Moaning, she scrambles to her feet and picks the phone up as the tune dies.

"Hello"

"Hello, gorgeous." It's a male voice that has her mind reeling trying to place him.

"It's Tyler Lockwood, "he helps her out, "I hear you're back in New York"

"Good news travels fast" she remembers Tyler Lockwood from their drug fueled appointments where they'd hang for hours talking because he couldn't release on account of snorting too much coke. He used to be fun, uninhibited and creative. He's a trader at Lockwood & Lockwood investment bank and his father has strong political ties at the governor's office.

"Like wildfire where you're concerned, gorgeous" he says, speaking rapidly into the receiver. "Would you be interested in a date?"

"With you?" she smiles, walking over to the floor to ceiling windows that cover one wall of her bedroom, "of course, darling"

"Hmm as enticing as the idea of another date with you sounds, it's not me you'll be meeting"

"Are you my pimp now?" she chuckles and arches her back, stretching one arm over her head. The stretch feels good, waking up her tired limbs and she really gets into it with a sun salutation.

"Just call me Santa's little helper" he laughs and Bonnie hears traffic noise coming in behind him. She hears the hoot of a car and the bell of a hot dog stand.

"A little too early for Christmas, isn't it?" she says, bending forward so that she can touch her hands to her feet. She exhales as she straightens her knees.

"Then Christmas is early this year"

"Who's my date?" She leans into an equestrian pose and pushes her right leg back, left knee against her chest as she looks up to the ceiling.

"It's a surprise"

"I don't like surprises" she can feel the stretch between her shoulder blades when she slides forward into a cobra pose.

"Just be at 740 Park Avenue tomorrow night at 8pm" Tyler begs and she imagines his smile, "I promise you'll have a great time"

Rolling onto her back, she lies flat on the floor and stares at the wrought iron chandelier with dripping wax candles looming above her "Fine, how long is this date?" she sighs knowing she cannot resist a dare.

"Four hours, I'll wire you your gift just text me your banking details"

"You got it"

When she finishes with Tyler, she takes a shower and considers calling Caroline for a lunch date. She ends up going to the Guggenheim for a James Turrell exhibition.

-oOo-

The Carlyle is very appropriate for _Fleur-de-lis_ girls, Kai reckons. Its vintage charm and elegance seems to suit Isobel's _starlets_. He's relished a few of them in the exact same suite. Taking a sip of his gin, he closes his eyes and drifts into a memory involving the Katherine Hepburn lookalike. Isobel has devised a brilliant business model, escorts who look like old Hollywood starlets. The girls are improved with the help of a brilliant surgeon so that Manhattan's elite, lecherous men can delight in them. Kai happens to be one of those men.

The knock on the door jolts him back to the present and he advances toward the door. When he opens it, he's met with a tiny figure clad in a silver hooded cloak. It's rather dramatic he think as she removes her hood but he reckons other men get off on the performance.

"Mr. Parker?" she flattens back her blonde hair and smiles up at him.

"Veronica Lake, I presume?" Kai tilts his head, looking at her through his dark eyelashes. She's pretty with a set of wide set blue eyes and lush red lips but she's no Veronica Lake. She shuffles inside the suite after he beckons her in, her silver sequined gown dazzling under the hooded cloak. After he helps her out of her cloak he offers her a glass of champagne and she expects.

"You will find the package contains a tip for your…company" he says handing her an envelope. His eyes roam over her side-swept blonde hair, the iconic forties curls swinging around her shoulders.

"Thank you" she smiles folding it in half.

"I think I need a refill" he tells her to give her a chance to store away her fee. Kai knows the game by now, he knows how they operate and for some reason they are always weary to store away their payment in full view of the client. When he walks over to her the second time, he is more than ready to proceed with the evening's entertainment.

"You have lovely skin. I can't wait to ravage it" he tells her, taking her hand and tracing his thumb around her pale wrist. When he has undressed her, he leads her to the bedroom flooded with artificial light. She lay on the bed, her skin silvery against her black underwear. Kai didn't tell her to remove her underwear because there was no need for that. He didn't book her for sex but rather to punish her.

"No DFK" she protests.

"What the fuck is DFK?"

"Deep French kissing" she explains, her voice shaky as she watches the silver handcuffs in his hands.

"Kissing is that last thing I want to do to you, sweetheart" Kai says, cuffing one of her hands to the bedpost. Slowly he walks around the bed, his eyes admiring his work then ties the remaining hand to the post. Finally he stands at the bottom of the bed, hands crossed against his chest and smiles. He likes how vulnerable she looks, spread-eagle like that. She looks broken, pained and it excites him because maybe then he can steal her light. He walks back to the head over the bed and takes a seat beside her.

"I want to hurt you; I'm going to hurt you" Kai caresses her hair, his fingers curling around her tendrils. "I bought you and now I own you" he says as she exhales. It's a shaky breath and her blue eyes plead with him.

"And when I'm done, you will thank me" he leans in so that he can whisper in her ear, "Without pain, pleasure would not exist" he assures her as his finger runs along her quivering jaw. Her eyes widen, her face blanches and her fear strengthens him. Kai smiles as he reaches for his small whip, his taste for her innocent flesh already prickling the skin on his arms.

-oOo-

"You holding anything?" Caroline asks as they wait for drinks at Per Se in Columbia circle. She winces when she touches the back of her head and Bonnie narrows her eyes at her. She's known Caroline for two years when she worked for Isobel. She soon discovered how limiting working for an agency was and left Isobel's team soon after. She notices things have changed since she left, for one thing Caroline's nose is sharper and her lips appear plumper. Bonnie has heard the rumors about the starlets and looking at Caroline reckons them to be true.

"Yeah, I have some coke on me" she says taking a sip of chardonnay, and then quickly follows with, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a little battered up. It's nothing serious "Caroline shrugs as she picks at her scallion salad.

"Are you playing in the BDSM scene now?"

"I need the money"

"And is it worth that?" Bonnie gestures to the bruise peaking under her collar.

"The money's good and this, "she pulls up her collar, "this was just a guy who got overzealous"

"Where was this?"

"The Carlyle hotel" she takes a pull of her wine and presses her lips together while she looks at a concerned Bonnie.

"I thought there were rules for this sort of scene"

"You've never tried it?"

"I'm more of soft dominant." Bonnie hisses and stabs her beet salad.

"You've never been a sub?" Caroline's eyes widen and Bonnie shakes her head. She understands why a lot of girls venture away from the vanilla side of things to dabble in some kink but she doesn't think it's for her. She doesn't like playing by the rules and she certainly doesn't like taking orders from a man even if he's paying for her time.

"Being submissive even for pay is not in my nature" she tells Caroline and hopes to kill the topic.

"So you'd never consider it?" her friend probes, observing with wonder as Bonnie takes numerous forkfuls of beet before she pauses to respond,

"Let's just that I'd rather be the one holding the damn whip" she chews, glaring at Caroline.

-oOo-

The town car pulls up in front of a towering prewar apartment building with a doorman. Her driver swings around to open the door for her and she marches into the cool interior of a lit lobby. Slipping inside a private elevator, she fixes her coiffed hair and tries to settle her nerves. She realizes that this is the same address where Jackie Kennedy grew up and suddenly feels underdressed in a DVF dress. When the elevator dings, its doors slide open and in front of her stands the governor of New York, Atticus Shane.

"Carla, I've been expecting you" his smile is wide and it reaches his eyes. Her eyes stay fixed on him, her jaw locked as if she's forgotten all the words in the world. She feels someone advancing to her left and Atticus motions for her to lift her arms and hand over her purse for a search. She's somewhat pleased because she hasn't packed her coke supply tonight. When the bodyguard gives the governor a nod, he steps forward and offers Bonnie his arm.

"You're gorgeous, Mr. Lockwood certainly wasn't lying about that" he ushers her three rooms down where they find the dining room.

"Thank you" Bonnie's gaze drifts around the room, taking in the opulent dining table with flickering tables and a pair of plates set for a quiet dinner.

"After you" he nods her ahead and a waiter pulls her chair for her. She settles her nerves with a glass of red wine, its aromas wafting into her nostrils as the governor talks about his pugs and his last vacation in France. When the last morsel has been wiped off their plates, he takes her by the hand and Bonnie feels the shift of energy in the room.

Governor Shane trails his finger across her red lace dress, following the swell of her breasts before he snakes his arm around her waist. He buries his face in her hair and murmurs something inaudible before leaning back to say, "You smell really good"

"You're not so bad yourself" her hand glides up to the side of his neck. He has a subdued elegance about him that charms her enough to know why people voted for him. Finally releasing herself out of the fangirl mode, she plays the part she knows that he needs. He's eager to please, charm the pants off her and tonight she will let him because that's why he's paying for. Most clients never really know what they need until they experience it and it's her job to read them and offer them what they don't even realize they desire.

She allows Atticus to undress her, to trail kisses across her shoulders but she shies away from a full on kiss on the lips. She wants to tease him and so she pushes him gently away from her and step toward the bed to get more comfortable.

He watches her, his eyes glistening in the moonlit bedroom. She lets him stand there for a while, watching as she runs her hands down her legs and over her pert breasts. When she thinks he's endured enough, she taps her leg to call him over to her. She smiles as he crawls on all floors, submitting until he kneels between her legs. Looking up at her with pleading eyes, Bonnie removes her red sheer bra and allows him to slide her panties down her legs. He lays his head against the inside of her thigh while his finger draws circles on her left thigh. Forcing his gaze back to her face, he asks

"Will you sit on my face?"

Leaning forward, she fists her hand into his hair and tilts his head back so that the governor's looking directly at her "Be a good boy and beg" she orders him. She can tell it's going to be a long night but she's up for the challenge.

-oOo-

 _ **A/N: The concept of the Fleur-de-lis girls was borrowed from the brilliant movie, L.A Confidential. For those who are eagerly anticipating the meet –cute between Bonnie and Kai, it will happen sooner than you think**_.


	3. Chapter 3

**-A STUDY IN DUALITY-**

-oOo-

Some mornings he can smell New York's decay. The smell rises up like clouds, drifting in between the tops of buildings until the city begins to clear.

On days like this, New York breaks his routine. He runs shorter miles on his treadmill, stays longer in the shower to relish the massage jets as they pound hot water against his body. He tilts his head back as water sprays knead his aching muscles. His runs his day over in his head, going over the meetings he has planned and ponders if he has the time to fit in another Fleur-de-lis starlet in his schedule.

When he steps out of the hot shower, white steam hugs him and he drapes a towel around his waist. Taking in a deep breath, he wipes a hand across the foggy mirror and then glares at his reflection. There are days when he swears that someone is inside his body, using his face and wearing his skin. Slowly he lathers his face with shaving cream and gives himself a wet shave. He prefers this method because he finds that the electronic shavers don't cut close enough and he likes a clean shave. Seeing that it's a humid day, he picks cologne that has a crispier bite to it. By the time he steps back into the master bedroom, he feels like himself again. He walks into their walk-in closet and runs his fingers along his line of suits before plucking out a dark Kiton suit. He shrugs into a white Brioni dress-shirt and slips a Zegna tie round his neck. He loops it into a half Windsor knot then runs his hand down the woven silk.

When he's perfectly done with his routine and as he slips T cylinder cufflinks into his cuffs, he smiles into the mirror. Draping his jacket over his forearm, he descends the curved wood staircase, strolls past the foyer into the dining room.

"Morning, darling" Rebekah drawls in her perfect form, her veneered teeth twinkling in the early morning sunlight. Kai mumbles a greeting and settles down to a hot cup of espresso and the Wall Street Journal. His eyes run over the spread of warm bagels, scrambled eggs and fruit salads that he has no intention to eat and then back to the bold prints of the stock market page.

"Don't forget to pick up your tux for daddy's campaign dinner" she says as she uses small shears to cut the stems of her roses at an angle. They're blush-pink, dull like her; he smiles and raises his espresso cup to his lips. She looks subhuman this morning, like a blonde little wind-up doll in her eggshell blue cardigan and Kai feels like a bull in a china shop. He hates their old world apartment with its high ceilings and curvaceous hand-crafted furniture. The place gets too much sunlight and the palette is nothing if not Upper East Side Wasp. Rebekah prides herself on being the perfect example of a wound-up tart, right down to her penchant of flaunting daddy's name and money.

"My tux?" he asks, casually flipping over her glossy copy of Vanity Fair before tossing it across the table.

"Oh, Kai" she rolls her blue eyes, casting him a quick glance while she arranges her roses inside a cobalt-blue crystal vase.

"Daddy's having that dinner for that electoral candidate, Thomas Vincent Fell III" she explains, tossing her curled blond hair over her shoulder. He would love nothing more than to stab her with her pretty little shears until she bleeds out on her pretty little lacquer finish dining table. He takes another sip of his espresso, looking beyond her at their view of Central Park. The voices in his head talk over her insistent noise and Kai is grateful because they drown her out.

"New York will outlive us all" he says, savoring the potency of his espresso.

-oOo-

Bonnie pokes the yolk of a poached egg with her fork, her eyes scanning the crowds clamoring for tables outside on the sunny terrace. It's a Saturday and as such most places in Manhattan are crowded to the hilt. Emily drizzles truffle oil over her scramble eggs and the golden lard drips into her brioche toast.

"Did you hear what I just said?" Em repeats, lifting her mimosa to her glossy coral lips. Her lipstick is a fun color, modern too but a tad misleading. Some would consider it false advertising because Emily hasn't been entertaining since…well, never.

"Yes, I heard you" Bonnie tells her sister then dabs her mouth with a monogrammed napkin. She kicks off her Helmut Lang stilettos so that she can feel the cold natural stone floor under her bare feet. It makes her feel like a child again, four years old and running around her mother's greenhouse. Four years old, the year her mother died.

"I'm getting married, Bon!" Emily repeats and Bonnie sighs because she heard her sister the first time.

"Congratulations" she mumbles then guzzles down her glass of champagne because she can't be bothered to fake drink a bland mimosa.

"I wish you the same happiness that I feel right now, I really do, Bon" Emily's cheeks flush a deep red as she makes a grab for Bonnie's hand.

-oOo-

That evening she meets Tyler at his apartment for a sinful evening that has her feeling like she never really left Manhattan. He feeds her strawberries while she sits inside a bubble bath, trailing his fingers down her chest between his hectic inhales of cocaine. He takes the time to show her how much he's upgraded when he offers her an ecstasy amidst a steamy kiss. When she's all cleaned up, Tyler lifts her up against the wall and hikes her towel up over her thighs. She wraps one leg around his hips, fingers tangled into his hair as they kiss. Her nipples awaken to his kiss while he whispers sweet nothings in her ear. It's not so much a matter of having missed him because she refuses to feel anything for a client but she missed the familiarity with him. Straddling him, she pins his hands against the bed while he licks her breasts, tugging her nipples with his teeth. It's the familiarity she tells herself as she tightens her thighs around Tyler's hips.

She's missed home.

Her ringing cellphone startles both of them but Tyler remains still, one arm thrown over his face as he lies on his back. Bonnie rises from her crouched position, wipes the coke from her nose and marches over to pick up her mobile. She scans the screen and recognizes the number.

"Hey, you" she sighs, arching her back.

"Hi. I was wondering if I can see you tonight." Elijah sounds shy and uncomfortable and this makes her smile.

"I'll uh…have to check my diary but…" she bites her bottom lip, raking a hand through her tousled hair.

"It's for a party" he explains and she can feel Tyler rising from the rumpled bed.

"What kind of party?" she laughs throatily while Tyler presses himself against her back. He hums, kissing her neck as his hands massage her breasts, pulling her nipples.

"Not that kind of party" Elijah chuckles and clears his throat, "It's a business thing. My father is having political dinner and I need a date"

"Hmm, short notice" she moans for Tyler but doesn't really mind when Elijah thinks it's for him.

"I'll make it up to you" he says and she knows that he's talking in monetary terms.

"I'll be there, just send me the details" she tells him and as she hangs up on Elijah, Tyler chuckles into her hair before his lips slide over her mouth.

-oOo-

That evening Kai finds himself at 740 Park Avenue for Mikael Mikaelson's political swarray. He excuses himself to Rebekah then weaves his way to the open bar. The place is speckled with blue and red balloons drifting over the crowd's heads but its classy glamour overall, Kai thinks as he knocks back bourbon. After a few speeches and even more shoulder surfing, he signals a server for a drink and proceeds to the restroom. Without a second thought, he flings the door open, slamming it against the wall but stops short when he realizes that he has interrupted someone. She gasps as she backs into the exposed brick back wall sprinkled with black and white photographs. She has her arms up in front of her, holding a rolled up hundred dollar bill.

For a moment they're both silent, alarmed as they stare at each other.

Kai's grey eyes travel down her slinky beaded gown, lingering on the slit running down her chest. He pauses there for a while, relishing her honeyed brown skin and the peekaboo her breasts are playing with his growing lust before his gaze ventures down to the counter top. He counts three lines of coke, the fourth having left a remnant on her nose. She wipes it off with her thumb, the corners of her lips edging up into a faint smile.

"Did I startle you?" he asks, inching closer to her.

"You should learn to knock" she replies with a husky chuckle.

"And you should learn to lock the door" he smiles and signals to her cocaine. His eyes dart between her and the coke, waiting for her to say something to possibly cover the awkwardness that she must obviously feel.

"Would you like to sample?" she asks instead and elevates a trimmed eyebrow. Slowly, he pulls out a sterling silver cigarette case from his jacket pocket and opens it for her.

"I have my own supply" he says as her eyes settle on the small bag of coke nestled between his cigarettes.

"Very stylish" her eyes swing back up to his and he notices their green color.

"Is it?" he laughs, not willing to tear his eyes away from her.

"Very" she insists, albeit nonchalantly as if she doesn't really want to exchange pleasantries with him.

"Guess I'm a very stylish boy" Kai says, unnerved by her blatant disregard of him, "Do I know you?" he asks, his eyes fixed on her amused smile.

"I'm sure you'd remember me" she replies and he catches a glimpse of the side of her left breast as she leans over the basin to inspect her face. She inhales her three remaining lines, slants her head back to grin at him then washes her hands. His eyes trail down to her buttocks where he imagines putting her over his lap and spanking her. He imagines that he would use a riding crop because it would have the right amount of quiver and leave the right amount of color on her inflamed flesh. He wonders if she's a screamer or a moaner. He prefers screamers for very obvious reasons.

"You're right. Perhaps it's Dejavu" he finally says as he swipes a tongue over his lips. She rises back up, takes a hand towel and wipes her hands. When her eyes lift back to meet his, Kai feels a shiver down his spine and a flaring heat in his gut. She advances toward him, her perfume invading his nostrils but when her fingers dance over the buttons of his tuxedo shirt, he's marginally intrigued.

"Dejavu is the mind's way of letting you know that you're in the right place at the right time" she tells him, her magnificent green eyes dropping to his lips.

"You missed a spot" he traces his thumb down her cheek to the corner of her mouth. She leans in closer, her gaze drifting back to his eyes and she smiles a smug smile that leaves him even more intrigued.

"Thank you" she breaths, her breasts pressing against his chest as she reaches for the door handle behind him.

"I didn't catch your name" Kai says, the pulse along his jawline quickening as his mind whirls with fantasies involving her.

She leans even closer, her voice caressing his skin as she whispers into his ear, "I didn't give it to you" she smiles and Kai hears the door click open.

"See you out there" he smiles, a wisp of her brown hair brushing his cheek as she walks past him.

-oOo-


	4. Chapter 4

**-IN OUR BLOODSTREAM-**

~~~~oOo~~~~

 **Bonnie**

~~~oOo~~~

In New York everyone wears a label. You're a writer, you're a model, you're hooker, you're a junkie, you're a student, you're a working stiff, you're a mother, you're a cunt, you're a bum, you're a wall street asshole, you're a nut. There's no normal because normal sucks.

Fuck normal.

Normal wakes you up at the crack of dawn with heart palpitations because of some fucking folder, some e-mail that you forgot to send to some jerk-off client. Normal is fucking up your nervous system with caffeine for a fucking minimal wage job with no health insurance, normal is submitting, normal is dying a slow miserable death somewhere inside some fucking cubicle because you believe in normal.

Fuck Normal.

Everyone is New York wears a label and mine is whore. I fly that kite like a bad bitch and I'm certainly not shy about wearing my label on my sleeve. Elijah also wears a label, it's called frigid financial prick but I still like him because he's good guy. He's passionate, sensitive and he's in tune with my womanly needs but he doesn't shake me to the core, not that he needs to because he's the one paying me for my time. Swiping a glass of champagne from one of the serves hoisting trays over their heads, I scan the crowded room again and that's when I see him. I raise my glass, toasting the tall drink of water who's been eyeing me since we bumped into each other in the restroom. He looks delectable in a black tux and I have to bite my bottom lip in order to stop myself from saying what I pretty much wanted to utter since our brief encounter.

Dang!

His grey eyes center on me, wide with wonder as they follow me around the dining room festooned with campaign banners and red and blue balloons. I let mine roam over his body taking stock of the small details like his elegant Breitling watch and Mont Blanch cufflinks. He's got a petit blond circling him but he makes no secret about where his current interests lie as his eyes trail my rounded hips, drifting lazily all the way to my breasts. I lift my glass again and take a sip and he mirrors my action which earns him half a smile from me. The blonde snatches his hand and says something that makes his jaw muscles flinch and that's when I lose interest.

My eyes coast to the man of the hour, Thomas Vincent Fell III who's with a little Asian appetizer tonight. Her hand brushes the length of his arm the way one might pat a dragon and this alone tells me that she's a rental. She's pretty and much too young to date Tripp for his personality because apart from being a moody, dick tossing, nipple freak he had the personality of a wet blanket. I've been with him before, a long time ago when his family still frequented the country clubs and it was rather a short session. He likes to tea bag, I remember that much from our little interaction, so much so that he would lose his erection every few minutes unless I took one of his hanging balls in my mouth. There was never that much intercourse because he lost his erection nearly everytime he penetrated me and I finally has to use my mouth to get him off.

Dick adapts, I think as I watch him shake hands and make small political talk with his benefactors. Elijah hooks my hand around his elbow and gives me a reassuring squeeze as he works the room. He looks elegant tonight but then again he strikes me as a man who's always polished. I tease his slicked back hair with my finger before draining my glass and he gives me a bashful glance. Plucking another flute of champagne from a server, I give Elijah a reassuring smile because I can tell that he's slightly worried about a grand whore embarrassing him in front of his anal family. The closer we get to Tripp, the faster my heart beats. I'm pretty sure that I'm about to get sick all over his elegant Italian shoes unless I find a bathroom or better yet fresh air. I've taken too much coke again tonight. As Elijah cranes his neck and taps Tripp's shoulder, I feel something wet trickle down my nose and my fingers graze the spot only to appear coated in red. Some days I snort enough to get a nosebleed, the blood reminds me that I'm still breathing.

Today seems to have been one of those days.

I nod and excuse myself before Tripp has had a chance to recognize me. It takes a while to vacate the room what with all the shoulder nudging and pleasant smiles I have to exchange with the pompous Upper East Side elite and then finally I'm outside with a bank of elevators in front of me. I brush past security guards with ear mold earpieces and give them a slight nod as a form of acknowledgement.

Punching the button on one elevator, I ruffle through my small sparkly clutch for a tissue while I wait for it. There's a ping and then the doors slide open to reveal an empty carriage. I take another sip of champagne once inside the mirrored elevator, pressing the button to the pool area as I rest my head against the wall. I'm pretty sure that Elijah will be looking for me and for the moment I don't care because I need to get away from the noise and all those memories regarding Tripp.

When I finally reach the pool area, blue lights flood the span of the water and I can finally breathe as I peel off my evening dress.

~~~~oOo~~~~

 _A/N: Insanely short, I know but I'll post another chapter on Monday. I just needed to bang this one out to help me actually post something for this fic. Trust me the next chapter will be worth it!_


	5. Chapter 5

~~~~~oOo~~~~~

 **-MASTER AND SERVANT-**

~~~~~oOo~~~~~

Rebekah is all chit chat tonight which annoys Kai to no end. His fiancé is in her element among the throngs of anally retentive elites. She crapes her plate with her cocktail fork as she chews the last of her hors d'oeuvre. Swallowing, she points the tines of her fork at Klaus and says something about policies and government. Kai pulls his eyes away from the duo and their repetitive conversation and casts them to the balloon infested ceiling before tossing another glance toward the woman who has held his attention for the entire evening. It seems that Elijah has already laid claim on her from the way he's been holding on to her like she might wander off should he dare release her from his clutches. Kai wonders how a woman like her could even date a man like Elijah because his soon-to-be brother in law is so stiff they could use his spine to stir moonshine.

Kai zones in on the delectable beauty on Elijah's arm again and his eyes do the leg work his mouth and hands are dying to peform. He roves over her shape, the dress hugging her hips with aching perfection and the slit on the front of her dress where he catches a glimpse of her lush breasts every time she moves. Just as his imagination toys with the idea of grazing her puckered nipples with his teeth, she moves, walking away from her group. Kai's follows her with his eyes like a predator seeking out its hunt. She stumbles out of the room and Kai weaves in-between the crowd and balloons bobbing against the ceiling as he tries to follow her. He snags a bottle of champagne and two flutes from an unattended table and rushes out of the party room.

Outside in the marbled hallways he is met by a bank of elevators and the one that his prey has taken is already sliding shut as he nears it. Lifting his head, he watches the numbers light up on the wall and notices that she has stopped on the ground floor, the pool area. A faint smile curls the corners of his mouth as Kai steps into another elevator and as he pushes the button leading to the same floor that Elijah's date had chosen, his smile widens.

A blue light casts over the pool when he steps out of the elevator and he can hear the sound of water echo over the vast space. The closer he gets to the pool, the louder the sound and Kai realizes then that she is swimming laps in the pool. Kai stands there longer than he should as he takes in the rippling blue water and her lithe form in that water.

"You up for some company?" he finally yells over the lapping noise and she stops swimming, her eyes flying over to the spot where he is standing.

"I'm always up for some company" she shouts back and Kai's smile grows. He unties his bow-tie with his free hand, his Adam's apple bobbing at the sight of her emerging from the pool. She is completely naked accept for a small lace thong and his eyes immediately lock on to the lace before drifting back up to take in her delectable breasts.

"I come bearing gifts" he gestures to the jaunty bottle of champagne in his right hand.

"Very presumptuous of you" she arches an eyebrow, placing her hands on her hips. There isn't one hint of bashfulness from her part and Kai is greatly intrigued by this.

"When I see something I like, I go after it" he tells her, his eyes trained to her face.

"Even if it doesn't belong to you?" she asks, a smile hinting the corners of her mouth. She moves, stopping within a whisper of an inch from him and casts her eyes to his lips.

"Especially when it doesn't belong to me" Kai licks his lips, tasting her scent, imprinting this vision to his mind. He drags his eyes away from her pert nipples, over the thrumming vein of her neck, her lusty mouth until he reaches her mesmerizing green eyes. When she steps back to snake into her dress it gives him a chance to pop open the champagne. He pops the cork and fills the two glasses that he's brought with him.

"Thank you" she chuckles taking the flute of champagne he's offering.

"When's the last time you've skinny dipped?" she asks, taking a sip from her glass.

"Is that an invitation to see my cock?" he takes another sip, his dick already stirring in his form fitting pants. She shoots a deliberate glance at his dick before looking back at his face again.

"Are we playing I show you mine and you show me yours?" she asks daringly and Kai has to bite his lip because dammit he wants to do so many prohibited things to her.

"Are you here with Elijah?" he asks instead, looking at her over the edge of his champagne glass.

"You know Elijah?" she counters, nipping her bottom lip with her teeth.

Languidly, he runs his eyes over face before replying, "You could say that."

"What's your name?" Kai asks again.

"What's yours?"

"Kai Parker."

"Carla."

"Carla, no surname?"

"No, just Carla…just like Cher."

"I'd like to see you again, outside of all this." He says and reaches over to touch her chin. Daringly, he pushes her wet hair off her face and settles his gaze on hers.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Did Elijah tell you what a good fuck I am, is that why you're here?" she rakes her fingers up his chest and Kai drops his eyes to watch her exploration.

"Are you a good fuck?" he asks, knitting his brows together.

"Why don't you ask around?"

"When can I see you again?"

"I'm not taking any new clients right now"

"I don't want to be your fucking client"

"What, you wanna fuck for free? You sure the blonde you were with would like that?"

"Fuck the blonde I was with"

"Do you still fuck her?"

"Every Wednesday after her spinning class"

"Don't you just hate scheduled fucks?" she smirks, brushing past him as she heads to the door.

"When can I see you gain?" he calls.

"Call me" she replies, glancing at him over her shoulder.

"But I don't have your number"

"If you want me, you'll find me"

~~~~~oOo~~~~~


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Time to check your morals at the door (let me hang those up for you in the coatroom) because it's about to get dark and filthy up in here! Lol….Mind the seats, here's a tissue._

~~~~~oOo~~~~~

 **-THE PLEASURE I BRING EXCELS ALL DELIGHT-**

~~~~~oOo~~~~~

Bonnie directs a clear stream of urine all over his chest while he strokes his cock in order to get himself off.

His name is Matt Donovan and even though he's a bundle of nerves, Bonnie can tell that he's the creative type. He's not artistic in terms of his career because he's another one of Tyler Lockwood's referrals which means he's probably a trader at the investment bank but he's certainly keen when it comes to kinks. It's his first time with this particular kink though, Bonnie can tell from the way he shies his eyes away from her every time she adjusts her position on top of him. He doesn't talk much and she's too hung over to ask too many questions. The no chit chat rule suits her just fine this afternoon. He looks up at her, face flushed and teeth gritted and Bonnie can tell that he's close. She continues to pee on him but she's nearly drained and he's still pumping his dick furiously in an effort to cum.

"Do you want to cum on my tits?" she asks, her spindly heels digging into the thick Mongolian rug as she hovers over him in an uncomfortable squat. She leans over his face, teeth capturing her lower lip as her thick hair spills over her face. She doesn't take her eyes off him as a moan tears through her lips. As if recalling that there is in fact a very naked woman on top of him with puckered nipples the size of silver dollars, he arches his back and thrusts his hip toward her. Bonnie throws her head back, raking a hand through her hair and wets her lips.

"I'm so close…so…fucking…close" he growls low in his throat as he climaxes and the shudder of his body beneath her earns him a big smile. She's happy that she won't have to use a scrub and loofah on her breasts after all.

Later she freshens up in his bathroom fitted with Calacatta marble tiles and flicks her wrist to open a brass faucet. She washes her hands, reapplies her pink lipstick and then runs both hands through her tousled hair in order to give it volume. Matt is waiting in the bedroom, pacing the length of the room anxiously as she walks out of his bathroom. He's uncomfortable with her being here after his climax, she can tell. He liked whatever they did but now he needs for the evidence to go away. He needs to go back to his ordinary life. She smiles, giving him a flitting look as she brushes past him in her cobalt blue lace-trimmed satin demi bra and thong. He nods, feigns a smile as he crosses his arms and she tries not to laugh because it's so painful to watch. Bonnie shrugs back into her oversized pastel lemon coat and slides her feet back into a pair of nude Zanotti pumps.

His place looks upmarket with its iron chandeliers, black floral wallpaper and velvet tufted dining chairs. He probably likes to entertain or he likes to give the impression that he entertains, she thinks as she walks through his dining room.

"Thank you, that was very cathartic." Matt says, holding the door open for her. The song and dance at the end of an appointment can be one of two things; it can be brief and warm, curt and businesslike or anxious and awkward like it is now with Matt.

"You should recommend me to Time Out" Bonnie smiles and goes through the motions. Then with a hesitant handshake Mr. Golden shower sends her off.

After her kinky afternoon with Matt Donovan she heads back to her apartment. She opens a packet of Moroccan couscous and fills a ceramic bowl with it then she pours boiling water over it to fluff up the grains. While she waits, she opens a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, fills a glass and leans against the kitchen island as she takes the first blissful sip. Once she's done with her meal, she calls her sister and they chat about her engagement and the new Channing Tatum movie. Finally as the sun sets over Manhattan, she lights a set of scented candles in her bathroom and soaks in a relaxing bath. She relishes in the vanilla aroma from the candles, cradles her glass of wine and shuts out the rest of the world.

.

.

Kai peeks through his office blinds at the throng of people and yellow cabs swarming the street below. He cringes when he sees a few tourists clamoring and taking pictures around the charging bull. Taking another sip from his espresso, he fixes his tie and runs a hand through his hair. It's been a couple of days since the pool incident with Carla and he hasn't been able to stop thinking about her, fantasizing about her in that water. The mere thought of her rouses his cock.

He casts a look at the cell phone on his desk and picks it up. Deciding to call her is a reflex like a muscle that he needs to stretch. He doesn't dwell on the choice, doesn't way his options because there are none. He wants her; it's as vital, primal and simple as that. Settling into his high back leather chair, Kai punches her number into his phone and waits for the ringing tone.

"Hello" her voice is husky and low, thrusting him back to the memory of that evening.

In taking a gulp of air, he asks "Are you a masturbation slut?"

"Is that how you get off?" she purrs and her voice burns him, coils around his spine and scorches every inch of him.

"Perhaps." A smile hints at the corner of his mouth and he loosens his tie, propping his legs up on top of his desk.

"Are you imagining me right now?" she asks and Kai smooths a hand down his silk tie, throwing his head back as his eyes flutter closed.

"Yes." His response is barely a whisper.

"Am I on top or are you taking me from behind?" she teases and he has to fight the growl that threatens to rip through his throat.

"You're on your knees and I'm in your mouth." Kai says hoarsely, his voice now thick with lust. She knows how to use her voice, he thinks, there is electricity in it and right now it's working through him like an overcharged current.

"Careful I don't bite." She chuckles, a husky tone that shoots right to his groin. Kai shifts in his chair lowers his hand to the desk where he glides his finger along the polished surface.

"Do you recognize my voice?" he murmurs.

"Should I?"

"This is Kai Parker. I found you."

"And so you did."

"I want to see you."

"You mean you want to fuck me." She deadpans and a knot forms in his belly.

He has to clear his throat before he can form a response because his need for her is so deep, he can't even see straight. "Yes."

"Then say it. Tell me you want to fuck me."

"I don't just wanna fuck you; I want to fuck you thoroughly."

"Good then you can text me the time and place. I'll be waiting. She says then hangs the phone before he can get a word in. Kai sits there a while longer starring at the phone in his hand. Rising from his chair, he steps into his bathroom and shuts the door behind him. He pulls out a bottle of mouthwash and pours a little into the lid before tossing it into his mouth. He swishes liquid in his mouth, holding it in a tad bit longer to feel the swell of alcohol on his gums. Then he picks a fragrance, something fresh and woody before staring at himself in the mirror. He shrugs into his Dior jacket and irons out the fabric with his hands. Kai runs his options in his head. He doesn't want to fuck her at the Carlyle hotel because that is strictly reserved for the Starlets. Carla is something else entirely. She's pure Columbian cocaine, China White. Plucking out his cellphone from his jacket, he texts her again. He's decided he wants to fuck her at the Waldorf hotel.

.

.

Bonnie is at an art gallery in Chelsea viewing an abstract landscape painting when her phone rings. She tears her eyes away from the bursting yellows and oranges on the canvas as pulls her phone out of her white palazzo pants. When she rests the phone against her hear all she hears is the creak of a leather chair and the gentle of hum of an air conditioner.

"Carla." He finally speaks.

"Mr. Fell"

"What happened to Trip?" he chuckles as she strolls out of the quiet gallery with its unforgiving fluorescent lights. An explosion of car horns and sirens greets her outside and she has to plug one ear with her finger in order to decipher what Tripp is saying.

"I reserve first names for lovers and friends. What do you want?" she asks, watching an army of yellow taxis and the new Uber cabs battle it out in the midst of a jam-packed traffic.

"I'm looking for a new scene" he tells Bonnie and she knows exactly what this means. He's got a new fetish that he'd like to try out and he can only trust her with this filthy fantasy. She's really not sure why he thinks he can trust her after so long especially considering how they parted.

"Fetishes are erotic responses to sexually charged fears." She says, "I read that somewhere"

"I've missed you. You're quite a find."

She rolls her eyes and suppresses quiet laughter, "I heard you had a new Asian Swallowtail in your collection and I must say she's stunning."

"She's one of Isobel's starlets; I needed a date for the evening. Anyway, who told you?"

"I have my ways"

"That you do"

"Have dinner with me."

"I have to go, Tripp." With a smile she hangs up on him then takes a deep breath before heading back to the peacefulness of the gallery.

.

.

The suite has a beaded chandelier that looms above him, thick luxurious drapes and a console table topped with a vase filled with flowers. He taps an impatient finger against a glass of bourbon and checks his watch. She's not late but he's growing aggravated and his need for her is mounting.

The tap on the door jerks him awake and he drains his glass, making his way to the entrance. A calming breath steadies his breathing and he swings the door open.

"Carla." Kai greets, raking his gaze over her form.

"Kai Parker."

"Please come in. Mi casa es su casa" he gestures with his hand and closes the door behind her. The minute she crosses the threshold she changes the air inside the room, she thickens it with her primal heat, the sway of her hips and the swing of her hair over her shoulders as she turns to him with a coy smile.

"And how did you find me?" she asks, clasping a leather clutch in front of her.

"A little financial bird gave me a good stock tip" Kai advances toward her and indicates to a chair next to the console table.

"Does this bird have a name?" she follows his eyes and walks to the chair, tossing her purse of the table in front of her.

"Tyler Lockwood. Can I get you a drink, some cocaine perhaps?"

"Vodka. I didn't know you ran in the same circles as Tyler Lockwood." She quirks an eyebrow and crosses her right leg over her left leg. Kai is not sure if it's a conscious act from her part but he has no doubts about her awareness to the power she exudes. His eyes trace the sleekness of her legs, the curve of her calves and the arch of her feet. His gaze lingers there on her feet where she dangles a shoe off one foot. He swallows past the knot in his throat and treks back to the swell of her breasts in that damn antagonizing shirt.

"I don't do social groups. Does it really matter how or when I got your number…you're here now." He hastily corrects her. The idea of him running in Tyler's social circle makes him sick to his stomach because apart from comparing business cards and shooting up cocaine in jam-packed night clubs, they really had nothing going for them. The brat-pack, otherwise known as Tyler Lockwood's pals basically lives on daddy's dime and fucks on daddy's dime too by the looks of things. His lips quirk into a half smile as he surveys Carla again. She's wearing a sheer black shirt today and he can see her lacy demi-bra through the fabric. His eyes trail back down to her pencil skirt and his mind is already reeling with how much he's going to enjoy her because she's far from his norm. She's a petit little firecracker with temperamental green eyes and a mouth created for kissing and sucking. For a moment he muses about putting a ball gag in her mouth and cocks his head, looking at her through his eyelashes.

"And you don't want to waste time talking." She says, directing his eyes from her mouth back to her fearless eyes.

"No, I could think of better things to do with your time" tearing his eyes away from her, he takes long strides to the bar and squares his shoulders.

"Do you wanna fuck me now or after the Vodka with a side of cocaine?" she baits him again with her sinful voice and Kai has to fight the urge to glance over his shoulder. He can't lose control; he can't fuck her in frenzy. He wants to savor her.

"After." He informs her and fills her glass with vodka, adding a splash of lemon. When he whips back around to serve her the drink, he has to pause, fingers tightening around the glass as he watches her. With her legs crossed, she drums her red nails against the chrome steel legs of the leather chair and fixes her eyes on him. Kai realizes now that their eyes are locked and that gravity no longer exists. His stomach plummets, his heart rate shoots up and the devil in her smiles as if she's figured him out.

Slowly she uncrosses her legs and he becomes painfully aware that she's not wearing any underwear and the throb of his dick is so hard he's bound to get a headache. Stepping closer to her, Kai nudges her knees apart with his legs and stands between her legs. The delicate touch sends a shiver down his spine and the way she is looking at him; hot damn, it's enough to make him cum right there on the spot. He wets his lower lip in anticipation but hands her the drink with a nod instead.

"Thanks." She salutes him and they drink quietly for a moment. It's a raw and intense silence, the kind of quiet that knows that an apocalypse is coming. In the quiet, Kai fills his glass with more bourbon and then he remembers the matter of her gift. He reaches a hand into a jacket tossed over one chair near the bar and pulls out an envelope. When he turns in order to give her the money, she's already standing in front of him and he wonders when she got up from her chair.

"There's the matter of your gift." He says, trying to sound casual.

"Thanks" she plucks the envelope from his fingers but doesn't move from her position. Her face is inches from his face. His eyes dart back down to her chest as if seeking permission to undress her. Slowly, she takes the glass from his hand and sets it aside then does the same with her empty glass. Kai slides his fingers under the lapels of her shirt, a tingle of excitement surging through him before ripping the shirt open. The gasp that tears through her lips is unexpected and only serves to fuel his arousal because dammit it this is finally happening.

"Carla" he whispers, marveling at the swell of her breasts before cupping them with his hands. He doesn't know where to start and can barely string two words together not to mention a thought and so he goes primal. Kai grips her upper arms, draws her closer to him and kisses her. His kiss is rough and urgent, teeth nipping fleshy lips, fingers tunneling through her hair and all the while she shudders beneath him. It's a frenetic energy that sparks between them and the reverberation of his groans in her mouth seem to drive her wild. Kai likes wild, he likes the way she fumbles with the buckle of his belt while he hikes her skirt up her thighs. Their clothes pool around them, his fingers skim her wet folds, circling around her clit, their mouths not daring to break apart from the kiss. They're bare to each other, naked with no more barriers between them and for a moment he thinks he knows her, recognizes himself in her and when she bites his lip he knows this to be a fact. Gripping her ass, he scoops her up and carries her to the bedroom but not once does he break the stinging kiss.

Tossing her to the center of the bed, he seizes her ankle and drags her toward him to the edge of the bed. Before he can lift her legs over his shoulders, she's clawing at him, rolling him on his back and straddling him. She laughs and he captures the sneaky little chuckle in his mouth, fisting his hand into her hair and pulling her back on to the bed. Kai flips her over until she's lying face down on the bed. He is swift to straddle her, one hand on the back of her neck and the other reaching out for his belt. She moans something but he doesn't hear her. He's too deep into now too deep in the fantasy playing out in his head. Her fingers clench on the sheet, fisting the fabric until her knuckles blanch.

"Sometimes it's easier when you blackout" he tells her, "But I won't let you because that's no fun for either of us"

"Nothing wrong with a little healthy aggression" she manages to hiss through gritted teeth.

"Are you ready to push the envelope?" he asks, looping a belt around her neck. The metal of the buckle feels cool against her sweltering skin and she bites her lip before he begins pulling. Her ears ring from the pressure of his belt around her throat but he doesn't ease off from choking her.

"I promise to release you from yourself" he holds her firmly, placing a hand on the middle of her lower back before burying himself inside her to the hilt.

…

 _Hi my lovelies, I'm really working tirelessly on an update but work is crazy this time of year. An update will probably only be up next week._


	7. Chapter 7

**SO MAYBE I'M A MASOCHIST**

~~~~..~~~~

Face down with her ass high in the air. He's taking her to church, dragging her to hell through a rapture of fire.

Gasping for air as she chokes on his belt, sheet pressed down on her cheek, she clenches her eyes shut and fists her hands in the damp sheets. Right now he's the law and his thrusts are so visceral, so primal they have her soaked and drenched like a pig in Nola. It surprises her at first, this feeling of complete abandon that takes over her as he buries himself inside her. He's in so deep that they're both breathing for this and little else. When she inhales, he exhales, he gives and she receives and thrusts deeply into her but there's serenity in their madness. There's serenity in the way he grabs her hair, the way his fingers tangle into its damp strands before he begins pulling it in order to bring her mouth against his. She tastes the sweat that's been stinging his eyes since they started this violent dance.

"Look at me"

He tilts her head up, spits into her mouth before directing her chin back into the pillow and away from his face. When he begins to pound into her with feral urgency, Bonnie bites into a pillow. He presses himself harder against her, one hand around her throat, the other stroking her soaked clit as he continues his primal thrusts. She's short of breath when he flips her over and tears the belt from her throat but before she can catch her breath, his mouth is closed over hers in an urgent kiss.

When he breaks the kiss, she spits on his face, saliva trickling down his cheek before she licks it off. His face, charged with blood contorts into an expression that resembles pleasure. Bonnie takes his hand and puts it on her neck directing him to choke her again. He can feel the warm wetness of her pussy as he slides in and out of her, wet and warm all around his cock.

"Harder!" she commands, barely a whisper with his hand around her throat but Kai pumps harder, harder and harder, harder and harder until she digs her nails into his broad back, biting the side of his neck. In this moment she forgets about his marital status, the blonde she's seen him with or maybe she doesn't care. There's no decorum, just her wet pussy and his rock hard cock making her squirm. It feels so fucking good but she has to remind herself not to come which only makes her want to come some more. There's a moment, just when she feels his breathing escalate, when she thinks that he's going to come, this moment that he pulls out, eyes locked onto hers, his cock tracing the outline of her swollen lips with the head and she thinks fuck him, fuck him in all his beautifully hard glory, fuck him for making her weak, fuck him for being this in control, fuck him for everything and in this moment as he plunges back inside her, she forgets her own name.

When he finally collapses on top of her, the salty hardness of him spent and drained while his teeth graze her shoulder, making her heart skip in her chest.

"Did you come?" his voice is thick and soft, making her eyes close involuntarily. She tells herself to get up, peel herself off the wet spot they created and leave the hotel room. Her eyes finally shoot open and she glares at the ceiling with its ornate patterns and the late afternoon light playing tricks across the spent limbs.

"You don't pay me to come." She replies, her voice curt as she sits up and swings her legs to the side of the bed. She can feel his eyes on her bare ass as she moves to the bar where the comforting drinks are lined up. They're still fixed on her as she pours herself some vodka, no ice. She feels the sting at the back of her throat and coughs, swinging her eyes back to him. The way he stares at her unnerves her. It's not the usual glare clients give her after a session, the glare that attempts to peels away her layers in an effort to figure her out. It's not even the glower of asking when the fuck is she leaving so that they can forget their shame. Kai's stare is primitive, savage, like an anthropologist observing unfamiliar human behaviour.

"I should go" she whispers, staring into her glass before she drains its contents. At first he doesn't say anything, merely watches her closely as she slips back into her pencil skirt, buttons up her shirt and slips back into her stilettoes.

"Stay" he murmurs, his hooded eyes tracing every line and curve on her body. He rises up from the bed, sheet trailing the floor behind him and grabs a water bottle on the counter. He screws the top off the bottle and takes a sip.

His gaze strays to her lips before returning back to her eyes and her breath stills as his hands circle around her waist. The scent of his sex dampened skin envelops her, a visceral energy as his fingers rake through her tousled hair.

"Carla, "he begins but she places her index finger on his mouth.

"I had a great time." She tells him as she brushes past him to the door. When he looks at her, he feels likes he' connected to something greater than himself but the moment the door clicks shut behind her, the feeling fades. There buzz is gone and he's empty again.

..

Inside the elevator, Bonnie finally looks at herself in the mirrors covering the interior. There's a red mark on her neck, a bruise from his belt as if he was trying to leave an imprint of himself on her skin, tattoo himself on her like a memory. Gently, with trembling fingers, she touches the bruise and wonders when it will fade.


	8. Chapter 8

~~~~oOo~~~~

 **CHASING THE DRAGON**

~~~~oOo~~~~

Sunrise clips the roof tops making it look like Manhattan is catching fire and Kai stands at the window watching the scene. He catches his reflection in the window and admires the new vitality in his eyes. He's been replaying Carla in his head since he saw her three days ago.

When Rebekah comes into the room he turns around and grabs his shirt from the back of nearby chair. She snatches the remote control from a nightstand and clicks on the TV. Stock information scrolling across the bottom of the TV screen but she mutes the sound.

"What's that?" she asks, startling him.

"What?"

"The nail marks on your back." She points just as he shrugs into the shirt.

"Uhm…I must have gotten them at the spa. I played a round of golf with Damon the other day and needed a message to ease the tension."

"Damon plays golf?" her forehead wrinkles as she asks but she smiles nonetheless.

Kai crosses the floor and walks into his closet, tossing a response over his shoulder, "Who knew?"

"You sure you're not having an affair with your secretary or something?" she chuckles nervously. He knows that she loves him more than she likes herself and if he were not such a cruel bastard he'd let her go but maybe he needs her more than she needs him. Maybe he needs her pathetic dependency, her name, her money, her clout, maybe without her he's be just another lowlife asshole from Oregon who's not good enough for her last name, not good enough for the summers at the Vineyard, not good enough for the hookers that Isobel provides.

Not good enough for Carla.

He nearly chokes at this probability as Rebekah attempts to help him with his tie. He's spent his life running from his life in Oregon, running from the stench of his alcoholic father, the stink of his brothers and sisters and the guilt of wanting to run away, the guilt of wanting to escape.

"Banging Anna over typos? There's an idea." He gives off a dry chuckle and eases her hands away from his chest. He takes a pair of cufflinks from the drawer and slips them through the starched holes of his shirt.

"Are you ever going to look at the samples I gave you?" her eyes chase him, making their way up his body.

"What samples?"

"Invitations to our wedding!"

"It's not linear algebra, Bekah. You'll figure it out."

Kai grabs his jacket and steps out of their bedroom. He wishes he could love her the way he used to love her.

..

Bonnie's stilettos clack against the plush leather floors of the cigar bar. She looks around the mahogany toned space, taking in the dignified atmosphere of heavy velvet curtains, Moroccan art sprinkled on wood panelled walls and the oversized potted plant dotting the space. Suited men with loosened ties sit on wingback chairs swathed in Scottish plaid as they sip their aged scotch.

Sliding into a polished bar, she crosses her legs and peruses the leather bound wine list. After some time she orders a chardonnay and the bartender, clad in suspenders and the customary moustache sets down her drink in front her and fixes her a fresh bowl of olives. She samples a feta stuffed olive and glimpses a bar menu which looks inviting.

"I heard you were back."

Bonnie jumps at the sound of a voice behind her. Turning around she stares at the face of Isobel Flemming. She's all dark hair, pale skin and a cleft chin that still does wonders for her face.

"You look good." Isobel says, sidling next to Bonnie.

"You don't look so bad yourself." She replies, following Isobel's gaze as the brunette waves to a patron seated in another table. Bonnie assumes that to be the table where Isobel was enjoying lunch before she spotted her. Their attention is pulled back to the bar as the bartender closes in on Isobel.

"I'll have a vesper martini" she orders.

"Another glass of chardonnay for you, Madame?" the bartender asks and Bonnie nods in the affirmative.

"Where's there's money and men, the whores will follow." Isobel gestures with her dimpled chin and Bonnie follows her eyes to a woman seated at the end of the bar. She's alone, heavily made up and clad in a strappy cocktail dress even though its two o'clock in the afternoon.

"One of yours?" Bonnie asks as a security man in a black suit approaches the woman, taps her on the shoulder and very discreetly whispers something in her ear. It doesn't take her long to gather her things and follow him to the exit as he assists her in vacating the bar.

"A little bird told me that you had date with the governor." Isobel directs her attention back towards Bonnie.

She leans closer, her breasts nearly spilling out of her red shift dress "I have made quite a name for myself around here, business is good, the clients are happy and the girls are happy. I don't appreciate someone coming into my turf and-"

"Your turf, what is this gangland for hookers?" Bonnie interrupts, an amused smile playing across her lips.

"I'm giving you a little friendly warning." Isobel reiterates.

"Here, "she adds, opening her clutch bag and peeling off a few bills from a money clip and laying them on the counter, "your next drink is on me."

..

The air tastes heavy and humid even though he is in his office. Kai licks beaded sweat from his upper lip as he prepares his coke in his adjoining bathroom. He snorts a line knowing that the high can last him for at least an hour. That's how long he'll need to feel refreshed enough to do the gallery thing with Rebekah and her brother. The drug rockets through him, an erotic charge ravishing his senses.

After, he pauses to stare at his phone and fights the urge to call Carla. He tucks his sterling silver cigarette case in his jacket pocket and steps out of the office.

..

Later, Kai stands in the lobby of the art gallery while Rebekah checks their coats. Elijah and his date for the evening trail behind them, laughing and talking about some Gulf Coast asset acquisition. She's an oil trader like Elijah and Kai can just imagine how insufferable their conversation will become. He scans the room and collects a glass of wine from the open bar on the other side of the space. That's when he spots her, weaving through the crowd, her eyes locked onto the paintings on the wall. His heart pounds in his throat and he takes a long sip of wine and moves closer to see her clearer.

Carla pauses in front of a painting depicting a ballerina with detached limbs tying her slippers. There is no blood isolating the torso from the rest of her strewn limbs, just a hazy glow creating an ethereal effect. Her eyes coast over the painting, the lines, the brushstrokes, the beautiful vulnerability depicted in the picture.

His gaze glides across her face, catching the flicker of pain in her eyes before she closes them. When she opens them again, the ache is gone and has morphed into a steely glare.

She parts her lips and lifts her glass to take a sip of wine.

Kai continues his excursion, his gaze sliding down her body. Her nipples are sharp as knives beneath the copper silk of her slip dress. The silk quivers every time she moves, a fragile strap sliding down her shoulder before she draws it back up. She's too absorbed in the painting in front of her to notice him and he doesn't care because he is too struck by her to look away. When he looks at her, nothing else exists. An electric current shoots through him, wired and strung like a crack addict in the early hours of morning.

He watches her closely, unable to look away. He wonders what it would like to fuck her beneath the stark white walls of the gallery with the moonlight from the skylight beating down on their naked bodies. He imagines her pussy warm against his palm, wetter against his tongue and a smile curves the corners of his mouth. Watching the graceful swing of her hips, he takes another sip from his glass and imagines his cock sliding in between her soaking heat. Kai tries to block out Rebekah's voice but it penetrates the hum of voices in the gallery and assaults him like a dying cat.

As if sensing his eyes on her, she turns around and meets his eyes. Kai steps toward her, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Carla." He greets.

"Mr Parker, it's good seeing you again." She smiles back.

"Do you like it?" he gestures to the painting in front of them.

Blood climbs up the sides of her cheeks, "I have no feelings toward it. It's just a picture." She shrugs and casts a quick glimpse at the picture again.

He swallows hard, his eyes drawn to the deep ruby of her lips. Her tongue slips out over her mouth, licking off the wine. She's baiting him, he thinks. She enjoys the games just as much as he does.

"Your wife is watching us." She tells him and indicates to Rebekah with her chin.

"She's not my wife." He tells her and then clears his throat, "Elijah's here."

She tosses her hair over her shoulder and lifts an eyebrow, a smile teasing her lips. She acts like she doesn't care and he wants to believe her because he hopes that her fucking Elijah is not the same as her fucking him. How could it be? He's a far superior man to Elijah and she has to be intelligent enough to realize that, to feel that and to need that again. He leans in closer to tell her how much he liked fucking her and wants to know if she feels the same but she steps back and slowly walks away from him. Kai tracks her with his eyes until Rebekah finds her way back to him, standing by his side and hooking her hand in the crook of his elbow.

..

Two days later Kai is alone with Carla at the Waldorf. His eyes are hot on her, leaving scorching tracks along her skin as they close the door behind them. He stands behind her, his heat seeping through the fabric of her dress. Warm breath ruffles the hair curling at the nape of her neck and a shiver runs down her spine. She breathes in his scent and expectation tugs her gut. Neither of them says a word as he backs her against the wall, her right cheek pressed against it, her wrists over her head. He trails his fingers along the top of her stockings and the shock of his cold fingers against her skin elicits another shiver.

Turning her back around, he lifts her off the floor and wraps her legs around his waist as they move to a table nearby. He bends her over and she braces her hands against the table, glancing back at him over her shoulder as he pulls her hips towards him. Her breathing ragged, she clutches the edges of the table as his fingers slip between her thighs. Lacing his fingers through her hair, he pulls her head back and kisses her on the mouth as the shaft of his cock vanishes inside her. Kai grips the tops of her thighs, his fingers digging into her skin. It's a fragile line between ecstasy and pain.

When he pulls put and steps back, he's still hard and his muscles flex beneath his skin as he watches her.

..

Bonnie feels him moving back, she feels the change in the room and can almost sense the coldness in his gaze. She feels him studying her exposed buttocks, feel his eyes trace over her curves. Without warning, he slaps a firm hand against her ass cheeks and she squeezes her eyes shut against the searing pain. The shame of relishing the pain is not lost to her but she won't let him win. No moan or shriek escapes her lips and so he does it again, harder this time. She can feel him stepping back again, breathing excitedly as he inspects his handy work. It's a fresh bruise, over-ripe and red like a lotus flower blooming on her flesh and Bonnie feels its sting.

"Turn around" he instructs and slowly, she straightens up, turns around to face him with her glassy eyes staring boldly at him. Kai moves toward her, his breathing shaky and slips her dress off her shoulders, watching as it falls to the floor. He cups her chin and lifts her face so that he can look at her closely. Slowly he lowers his face and kisses her on the cheek, her eyelids, the tip of her nose and when a sigh escapes her lips, he captures it with his mouth before it is fully formed. He removes her lace triangle bra and sucks a nipple into his mouth. Murmuring something, he runs his hands along her shoulder blades and her nipples graze his chest as her fingers tangle in his hair. Without a thought, she kisses her way down to his navel and drops down to her knees. Taking him into her mouth, she sees a familiar look in his eyes as she digs her nails into his testicles. She's in complete control of him as he grows inside her.

Not one to relinquish control, Kai pulls her up from the floor, hoists her legs over his shoulders as he grips her ass cheeks and moves her to the bed. He grabs a bottle of wine from the nightstand and pours wine over her back, the liquid sliding down to her ass, dripping between her ass cheeks. Lowering his head, he flicks a tongue to her hole, spitting on it before devouring it with his mouth.

Rolling her over onto her back, he slides his hand round to her ass and draws her closer to his mouth. His stubble chin scrapes over the hood of her clit before his tongue flicks over the swollen knob, sucking it into his mouth. He eats her hungrily and thoroughly until he feels the quiver of her clit and the swell of her soft lips. She disappears into the language of his limbs, the rhythm of their heartbeats but the pleasure is humiliating.

He's in so deep, deeper than cunt, deeper than flesh, deeper than bone, than heart, than soul. He's in so deep that he's right at her centre. She doesn't want it, doesn't want him this deep because as good as he feels, the deeper he goes; the harder it will be for her to extract herself from him. She might end up needing him, needing him to fix whatever is wrong with her, needing him to ease all the pain she's tried so hard to fuck away with powder and a succession of cocks. He'll get under her skin and ruin her like crack because fuck him if fucking him don't feel as good as crack.

She drags her nails down his back, digging into his skin as her walls clench around him. When her body jerks, he lifts his eyes to watch her eyes roll back. The orgasm is a rush that hits as hard as a fist.

Spent and limp, they lay on the floor, limbs entwined as they listen to their breathing and the traffic outside their window. When he looks at her she wonders if he can see through her and past this person that she has created.

"Your hands are so soft." She tells him as she traces a fingertip across his palm, stroking it leisurely.

"My father had hard hands. I hated his hands." He responds and the timbre of his voice hardens her nipples. Slowly, she gets up from the floor and pads across the room. She picks up her dress from the floor and slips back into it.

"What are you doing?"

"I have to go"

"Why?"

"Because" she looks back at him and tries to smile. Her eyes are as deep as the forests in Oregon. He should hate those eyes, he should want to pluck them out and bury them deeper than his heart but they centre him, settle him, fuck him and nurture him all at once.

"Did you come or was it just professional courtesy?" he asks, his chilly gray eyes locking with hers.

Swiping her shoes off the floor, she asks "What response would please you the most?"

"The truth." Kai responds and she sees the crack in his cool façade when she catches a flicker of anguish in his eyes. There's a brief connection, his gaze crashing into hers before he morphs back into a shroud of mystery.

"I'm just an object, merely here for your pleasure." She tells him trying to sound unaffected. She turns the crystal doorknob of the door and opens it.

"Did I make you come?"

"Good night, Mr. Parker." She says, closing the door behind her.

..


	9. Chapter 9

..

 **LE SADIQUE**

..

Kai watches the city through a frosted window pixelated from the rain outside. They are sitting in a restaurant somewhere on Beaver street beneath a gilded ceiling as they discuss the Stetson deal.

"Looks like London is taking over the IPO market. Detroin is no longer launching on Wall Street." Damon says, draining the last of his Bourbon. Kai doesn't take his eyes off the windows but rather lifts his shot glass and takes a swig of scotch. When he finally turns, he sees the server weaving between tables as she approaches their table. She's sufficiently gifted with a pair of alabaster colored tits encased in a white button down shirt and a pencil skirt tight enough to make out her panty line as she wiggles towards them. Her raison d'être is to make sure they come and come again-fuck the lure of the steak; the waitstaff here are the main attraction.

She sets down their dishes on the table in front of them and Kai notes that the rib eye steak is perfectly charred on his gold trimmed plate, topped with golden onion rings and a small side order of a garden salad. He pulls out the knife thrust vertically into his main and trades eye contact with a waitress. He stares at her, unblinking while Damon, clapping his hands together, complements the presentation of the food. Kai shoots a glance at his colleague; Damon has always appreciated the element of theatre with his meal.

"Anything else?" she asks, looking over at Damon then back at Kai. He shakes his head without saying anything and with a nod, she stalks back toward the kitchen or wherever it is that servers stalk off to.

Once she's out of ear shot, Damon looks at Kai again and asks, "Are you listening?"

"Yeah yeah, you shouldn't be betting on tech stock right now anyway. It's still a bear market." He replies, directing his attention back toward the window. He listens to distant conversation discussing complex trades in emerging markets and remembers that the restaurant is a banker's habitat. It's where they all come to talk shop and ogle the waitresses with breasts spilling out of their conservative shirts.

"So Stefan's bachelor party's is coming up." Damon says, cutting into his steak.

"You think Bekah will give you an out?" Enzo pipes up, taking a break from his veal. Kai has almost forgotten that he is here. Enzo is a trader with a penchant for fucking young analysts and he is familiar with him. They've played a few squash games together, enjoyed a few business lunches and there was even that time when Damon who was dating a fellow I-banker at the time, invited a few of his colleagues from Whitmore and Maxfield to the Hamptons for a boys weekend. Taking in a breath, Kai opens his mouth to respond but Damon cuts him off.

"I'm sure he can be resourceful." He says, pointing the tines of his fork at Kai then at Enzo and then back at Kai.

"Creative, ingenious…all the things that make him such an asset at Whitmore and Maxfield." Enzo laughs, his fork poised over his plate.

"Oh before I forget, "his eyes suddenly light up, earning him a glance from Damon and a stony stare from Kai.

"I may have a gift for Stefan's bachelor party." Enzo says producing a card from his wallet and placing it on the table with a flourish.

"What is it?" Damon lifts the card up from the table to study it and before Enzo can even form a response Kai already knows the answer. He recognises the gold graphitized lily composed of three petals at the top corner of the card and the gold letters that spell out the name of the agency.

"It's called Fleur-de-lis. It's an escort service specializing in women who look like old Hollywood starlets." Enzo explains.

"Oh yeah? You think they got an Audrey Hepburn?" Damon raises an eyebrow, turning the card over in his hands. He slides the card across the table to Kai who picks it up hesitantly.

"Do they deliver?" he asks thickly, trying to sound casual. His colleagues do not need to know what he does in his personal time.

"Hooker delivery service, now there' an idea." Damon chuckles, catching the sarcasm.

"Quick buy a shell company and list that baby on the stock exchange." Enzo adds, rolling his eyes, "They deliver pleasure, mate. I'm not really sure how it works but I intend to find out."

"Is that Tyler Lockwood?" Damon asks and all three turn their heads towards the door where Tyler, dressed in a single-breasted charcoal grey suit, a white shirt, charcoal-grey tie and a white pocket square stands with another man who looks rather washed out in a black suit.

"Ass-hole." Enzo mutters, narrowing his eyes.

"Who's that with him?" Kia decides to ask even though he's not the least bit interested. It's merely a question to keep the flow of conversation going.

"Mason, his brother. He's an I-banker at Rothschild. I hear he's getting married."

"All these weddings, "Damon scoffs and shoots a glance at Kai "there must be a bug going around."

"Who's the fiancé?" Kai asks tonelessly, ignoring Damon.

"Emily Hopkins. She's an analyst at JP Morgan and her father's an attorney for the United Nations or something." Enzo offers and lifts a finger to beckon the server again.

They order another round of drinks and Kai asks for the check.

"Nice tits" Enzo remarks as soon as the waitress departs their table again and Kai realizes that he is irritated with his friends today and the din of the restaurant is also beginning to grate him. He checks his watch and his phone and sees a new text message from Rebekah telling him she'll meet it outside of the restaurant in twenty minutes.

"What's this?" Damon asks and Kai looks up from his phone to find that Enzo is holding up a stack of new business cards.

"New card." He states and spreads three of them on the table like a deck of playing cards "What do you think?"

Kai picks it up and holds it up to the light, its glossy and custom dyed and a tad too loud to say respectable trader on Wall Street but then it says a lot about Enzo.

"It's alright." Kai shrugs and reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out an antique sterling silver business card holder. He picks one and gently lays it on the table for valuation. Damon and Kai lean over the card awed by its matt finish and it elegant texture.

"It's beautiful" Enzo swallows a knot in his throat, tracing its smooth lines. Kai is proud of this moment because it proves that he's higher up in the pecking order. He knows he has a higher net worth than both Damon and Enzo even though Salvatore owns a place in the Hamptons. He's engaged to the daughter of a well connected family, one of the wealthiest in Manhattan and his career has never been better.

He should be happy but his innate desire to pluck out the waitress's eyes before fucking her bloody eye sockets tells him otherwise.

She's approaching their table again, pretty, peachy with a spring in her step. Kai can't help to think about the old age economic indicator that the hotter the waitress, the weaker the economy. He drums his fingers on the table, waiting impatiently for her to hand him the check. She proceeds to serve Enzo and Damon their drinks before leaning over to place the check in front of him.

He gives her a dry smile before slapping his platinum card on top of the table then scrawls his signature across the bottom of the check as she swipes his card on her little machine. Rising to his feet, Kai adjusts his sterling silver knot cuff links and plucks his navy suit jacket off the back of his chair.

"See you at the bachelor party, boys." Kai says tiredly, sliding back into his jacket and straightening his plaid tie. He dances around dish toting waiters circulating from table to table as he marches towards the exit.

The lobby is polished with marble floors and towering arrangements of fresh flowers sitting atop ornate Victorian tables. He stops to check his reflection in a gilded mirror by the exit, fixes the position of his tie and the matching pocket square and then he sees her though the gap between two towering bouquets of flowers. She's seated by the door of another entrance, her elbows on the table; legs crossed as she touches the sleeve of a jacket belonging to another man. Anger surges through Kai at the mere thought of her being with this stranger and he wants to yell out her name and tell who ever the fuck-cunt she's with that she is his, that Carla belongs to him but he doesn't say anything.

He merely stands there, hands balled into fists and feels the ground give way beneath him. He can't breathe, can't focus and the only thing he sees is the smile she's sharing with another man.

Kai's pretty sure that she's come into his life to break him piece by piece.

.

He stands by the columns flanking the entrance of Delmonico's and watches the rain wash away the sticky filth of the city. Checking his watch for the umpteenth time he ascertains that Rebekah is indeed late for their appointment. She wants to take him to her Bridal salon so he can pick up his tux and tuxedos for the groomsmen because she wants his look to be in sync with hers.

He's about to depart when he sees a black town car manoeuvring its way around the gridlock, cabs blaring their horns insistently at it and he realizes that its Rebekah when the rear window rolls down. Clenching his jaw, Kai pushed off the column he's been leaning against and marches toward the car.

..

"Are you wearing it?" Lucien asks, looking at Bonnie over the rim of his wine glass. He's a bond trader at Goldman and is referring to the gift he sent her a week back prior to their date. It's a black crotch-less panty with a string of pearls in front designed to stimulate her clit.

With a nod, she smiles and says, "I'm wearing it."

She gives the menu a glance, conscious of his eyes as they comb her over. She looks good today in her cream Bill Blass Flamingo blouse, leather pencil skirt and black sling-back pumps. She knows that his mind is already working, trying to imagine the strand of pearls and the way they tease her cunt every time she moves in her chair.

Glancing over his shoulder, he scoots forward in his chair and takes her hand in his, massaging her palm with his thumb. Bonnie doesn't look up from her menu but she's alert now, alert to the din of conversation in the room and the warmth of his touch on her palm.

"There is a rumour, "he begins and lowers his voice but his eyes remain trained to her hand "From one of the girls at _Fleur-de-lis_ _about you and Thomas Fell."_

"Now Lucien, you wouldn't happen to be trying to sell some ludicrous story to the press would you?" she drops the menu back on the table and pushes around the leaves of her baby arugula salad.

Picking up her glass of chardonnay from the table, she adds, "The Governor and the call girl?"

"Tripp is not a governor." He shrugs, letting go of her hand.

"Not yet."

"Do you know something I don't?" he winks and picks an imaginary tread from the frill of her blouse.

"No but it would seem that you do." She counters and takes a sip from her glass.

"The rumor is that you auctioned off your virginity to the highest bidder and that bidder just happened to be Thomas Fell."

"What am I, a fucking geisha?" Bonnie laughs and runs her fingers through her tousled hair," I do love a great fiction though."

"Are you saying the rumours are untrue?"

"I'm saying your big head will believe anything your little head is told, Lucien." She toys with the pear-shaped diamond cluster hanging from her Cartier necklace and leans over the table, touching the back of his hand, "You've always had a wild imagination."

"And you've always appreciated it."

..

Kai has made some excuse about working late but is actually cruising Midtown looking for some sort of adventure. Carla is all he can think about and so he drinks to mind fuck her memory, drives it away with shots of sake at some bar with too much light and it feels more like Tokyo than Manhattan. There's a woman in a red silk shirt seated at the bar close to him sipping an apple martini. She keeps shooting coquettish glances his way and he can bet that he could fuck her in the unisex bathrooms behind the frosted glass doors of the establishment should he be so inclined but he doesn't want to fuck anyone else but Carla. She's making him feel things that he doesn't want to feel, raw and ugly things that make him think things he doesn't want to think like the fact that he misses her smell, her touch and her come fuck me eyes.

He slaps a few dollars on the bar to pay for his drink then brushes past the woman in red and then he's outside. The air is still damp from the rain and city lights reflect off puddles on the asphalt. Kai tilts his face, willing the misty rain to wet his skin. He hails down a cab and directs it back to the Upper East Side. Pulling out his mobile phone from his pocket, he scrolls down to Carla's name and hits dial.

She answers on the fourth ring, "Carla."

"It's me, "Kai croaks then clears his throat, "Kai Parker."

"What do you want?" she asks with a sigh.

"I want to see you again."

"No."

Confused by her response, he blurts out "Why not?"

"Because I don't want to see you." She says matter-of factly and his stomach clenches. What has he done to upset her? He can't recall what he could have done to make her treat him this way. They had a good time last time, right, a fucking great time actually.

Grinding his jaw, he pinches the bridge of his nose and tries again "Carla."

"Are you so bored with your fucking meaningless existence that the only way for you to feel is through fucking me?" she asks, sounding cruel and distant.

"Yes." He replies hoarsely.

"Don't call me again." She tells him and before Kai can say anything else, she's hung up the phone. He listens to the dull buzz of the dialling tone before cutting off the call. He looks at the review mirror where the driver keeps glancing to look at him. His jaw clenches once more but he bites back whatever insults sits at the tip of his tongue instead he rifles through his wallet and retrieves plan B.

" _Fleur-de-lis_ , whatever you desire" Lexi answers after three rings and Kai opens his mouth to place his order but nothing comes out. He sits there, sweating and glaring at the cabbie's beady eyes in the mirror and he can sense his judgement. He cuts the call and tosses the business card aside with dull contempt.

It's no longer about chasing sexual gratification. It's more than that now, he needs more. The cab crawls past a sidewalk shrine made of candles and flowers and he wonders where the fuck they are and if the stupid cunt of a cabbie took some short cut. He spots a club across the street with blinking neon lights it sparks his interest.

"Stop." He orders the driver and the cab jerks to a stop. He pays the fare, leaving a tip and climbs out of the car.

.

There is a charge in the air the minute he crosses over the threshold. And an intense adrenalin rush shoots through him. It's a club of sorts he figures as he watches people grinding around with drinks in their hands. He watches the scene from a dimly lit floor as the music throbs in time with his heartbeat. As he moves forward, someone bumps into him but he doesn't look back, simply moves ahead, his gaze taking in the sights. There are couples kissing, groping, a sea of hands and legs, fumbling, feeling, moaning, grunting and Kai drinks it all in. He moves around clumps of people like a condemned man but he cannot help himself. He feels like a drifter, transient as he slips between the crowds, his face distorted in the myriad of broken mirrors in the room. The place reeks of sex and for a moment as he stands there watching the scene he feels conflicted but the craving to observe is too great.

His body tingles with anticipation as he nears another group and the sound of flesh slapping against flesh carries to his ears. Kai stands behind them, peering over their heads and what he sees sends his mind reeling not because it's filthy or dirty but because it's a glorified glory hole in the middle of the dance floor. His eyes skim over a tangle of limbs lit red by overhead flashing lights and finally settle on a blonde with small tits and pointy nipples. There's a man standing in front of her, cock out, willing and ready. She tests the tip with her tongue, licks the underside of his cock before her mouth slides over the shaft and then she takes his cock to the back of her mouth. His pleasure results in her pleasure and her pleasure results in his.

Its poetry, Kai thinks, feeling the electricity in the air. He feels his own dick quiver and all he can think about is Carla and her beautiful mouth. When he feels someone's fingernails clenching around his ass he knows it's time to leave.

Stumbling out of the club, he adjusts his eyes to another source of light, the blinking neon signs of the city before stretching out his hand to hail a cab back home.

..

Dressed in nothing but a black lace thong, Bonnie watches the traffic ten stories up from her bedroom window. It's raining and Sade is streaming from the speakers, telling a man that she'll be as quiet as an angel, as quiet as his soul. She wonders what's the trade-off is for her devotion.

His submission?

She takes another sip from her crystal glass, the scotch smooth inside her mouth then looks down at the contents again. Lifting the glass, she holds it up to her cheek and closes her eyes. Her thoughts sail to Kai again. He's cut her up, fucked her and left her raw. He's the closet a client has come to seeing the real her. She still feels ashamed for having climaxed with him. That's not how it was supposed to work because she's always set the rules and the boundaries but he managed to sneak in beyond her walls and transform whatever they had into more than a mere business transaction. She can't see him again and she won't see him again. He's too rough, too needy and fucking him is like dancing with Armageddon.

After draining her glass, she sets it down on her nightstand and stalks to her walk in closet to look for a dress for her date with Thierry Vanchure.

 _._

She meets Thierry outside of the Metropolitan Opera house and he helps her out of the limo he had sent her. He gives a thankful nod to the driver and places Bonnie's hand on his arm in order for him to guide her inside. He looks good, she thinks, tall with blue eyes and brown hair and the stubble that only a French man can wear so dashingly well.

His gaze slides over her boned midnight-blue velvet bodice, the synched waist and an elaborate skirt that seeps the red carpet.

"You're late." He smiles, kissing the back of her gloved hand.

" _Oui, desole_ …"

Still holding her hand, he spins her around and beams, "You look delectable as always."

After a bit of polite flirting and sipping champagne, Thierry leads her to his box overlooking the stage where they watch the show. As the emotions pour through the music on stage, she can't help but think about Kai again. It seems to fit, the crescendos in the opera and the monstrous passion she feels when Kai touches her, kisses her, fills every void and ache in her. When the first scene ends and the heightened drama of the passionate music dies down to a slow sorrow, Thierry touches her hand. She knows that this is a sign for her to begin her work and the games he likes to play with her.

Slowly she slides off her opera glove and unzips his pants then she brings her hand down on his lap and gives him a soft squeeze before sliding it up onto his shaft. Her gaze does not leave the stage and neither does his but she can feel him panting, his breath accelerating as pleasure takes over him.

As the harmonious sounds of violins and the soprano resonate off the lofty high ceilings of the opera house, Thierry Vanchure reaches his tearful, breathless climax.

..

Three nights later, she's in her apartment lighting several candles throughout her bedroom then she pours herself a fresh shot of scotch. She's invited Kai over for his appointment, no Waldorf this time and she doesn't even know why she's done this except that it felt right at the time. She swallows against the tightness in her throat and drains her drink, glancing at her watch

It's time.

Kai is about to knock but when he places his palm on the door he finds that the door is already opened and so he gives it a little push with his index finger. The place is plunged in darkness; save for the flicker of candles that crowd the interior. Nerves coil low in his belly but he dares to go forward, fingers tingling around the neck of the bottle of red wine he's carrying.

The city glows beyond the floor to ceiling wall of windows and his gaze continues to sweep over the place.

"Hi" she greets, startling him. She starts toward him, giving him a lazy grin. For a moment he watches her breathlessly, in awe of her beauty and her raw sex appeal. He's lost for words and so he blurts out the first thing that comes to his head.

"Is this a prelude to a fuck?" he asks, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

"You brought a gift?" she cocks an eyebrow at him, taking in his tailored pants and the impeccable shirt.

"I wanted to mark the occasion with a great bottle of wine." He says lifting the bottle slightly and she catches his whisper of a smile and the gleam in his eyes.

"And what occasion is that?" her gaze drops to his hands and she notes their slight tremble. He hands the wine to her and watches as she places it on the table.

"Allowing me into your home." His eyes drift back over her face and down to her wine-red lips, "Isn't that against the rules?"

"I make my own rules." she tells him, the straps of her dress slipping off her shoulders and sending it to the floor. Kai stares at the sheer burgundy corset contouring her body, accentuating her curves. He inches closer to her, his breath tickling her lips. Taking her chin in his hand, he turns her to face him and their mouths meet in a bruising kiss.

Without breaking the kiss, his hands slide up the back of her thighs before he lifts her off the floor. He grips her ass, wrapping her legs around his waist as they barrel into the bedroom. He drives them to the nearest wall, slamming into it and knocking the air from her lungs with a grunt. They struggle with his belt, breaking the kiss just long enough to strip it off before he takes her face in his hands again for another devastating kiss. Attempting to find the bed again, they knock over a lamp but holy hell who gives a fuck when this all consuming craving slams into them, making them weak and breathless and crazy for something that they both cannot identify. Breathlessly, they strip each other off the rest of their clothes and finally break the kiss so he can skim his lips along the arch of her throat while she moans, burrowing her fingers through his thick, tousled hair.

Pushing him onto the bed, she picks up a scarf and teases it between her hands.

"Do you trust me?" she asks, straddling him. She keeps her eyes fixed on his as she ties both hands to either side of the bed. Then she picks up a candle from her nightstand and poises it over his chest, the rise and fall of it exciting her. His breathing accelerates and his senses heighten in preparation of the burn. Sensing no apprehension from him, she tilts the candle, dripping hot wax slowly over his chest.

The wax runs down his chest, hardens and clings to his skin and Kai fights back a growl as the shock surges through him. His pulse races as he feels the hot wet of her tongue on his frenzied skin. More wax spills onto his hardened nipple before she bites it hard enough to make him shudder beneath her. Lust curls insides his belly like a fist and his cock jerks against his stomach.

She stares up at him as he strains against his bonds and wraps her fingers around his erection. Lowering her mouth, she licks the underside of his cock and runs her tongue up over his engorged veins to the tip.

"Holy Fuck" He closes his eyes, enjoying the torturing heat of her mouth.

"Open your eyes. I want you to watch me take your cock in my mouth." She commands huskily, feeling him twitch in her hand. He watches through heavy-lidded eyes as she guides him back into her mouth. She groans as she takes his entire length, spitting on him before gurgling him back into the back of her throat. The vibrations her throat makes resonate through her mouth making him curse all that is holy because fuck her if she don't feel better and wetter than a damn angel.

She snatches a condom from the nightstand, rips it open and slides it onto his cock using her mouth. Then without breaking eye contact he lowers herself onto him inch by filling inch, coating him with her wetness. The groan that slips out from throat startles them both, she's in total control of him and the thought of having him like this, sprawled and vulnerable to her, no part of him off-limits makes her smile.

"You're so fucking tight." He says throatily, bucking beneath her. She can see it in his eyes, the undeniable need to touch her, kiss her and fuck her on his terms but tonight is her game. She tips his chin up so she can take a good look at him and the ache in his face is so great she can't help but feel sorry for him just not enough to let him go yet.

"Untie me." He pleads, his hips rising to meet hers, matching her thrusts rhythm for rhythm. She captures his mouth to swallow his growl in response and leans over him until her breasts are pressed against his chest. She grips his bound wrists and speeds up her rhythm, driving him to the end zone.

"Make yourself cum all over my dick." He whispers against her lips as he thrusts from below, deep and deeper still while she rides with him. Unable to speak, her eyes lock on his, intent and challenging before the want and need in his eyes takes her over the edge.

"Fuuuuuuuck! Yes! Yes!" Flinging back her head, her muscles clench around him as a climax ripples through her. Kai grabs on to the brass rails of the headboard and arches his back, her orgasm triggering his orgasm. He explodes, barking out a string of curses and grunts as he climaxes.

..

Carrying two glasses and an unopened bottle of wine, Carla walks back into the bedroom and he feels helpless as she stands over him, looking down at him. He circles her waist with his arms then he slides his hands down from her waist, over her hips and captures her ass. Spreading his fingers over the flesh, he draws her hips forward and plants a kiss on her stomach, his breath fanning hot and moist against her skin. Heat pools at her centre and she lets out a slow shaky breath before handing him his glass.

Kai lifts his head and looks up at her with big glittering grey eyes and takes the wine on offer.

"I don't want you to see them anymore" he murmurs running his fingers down her taut stomach.

"Who?" she asks, moving around the bed to plant her glass down on the nightstand.

Following her with his eyes, he grips the long stem of the glass tighter and says hoarsely "Elijah or any other man who wants to fuck you."

"That's not your call." She sits behind him, circling her legs around his waist; arms around his neck and nips the side of his neck with her teeth. There's a long pause while he stares up at the wrought-iron candle chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

"I want to know your name" He tells her, breaking the silence.

"What's in a name?" she half smiles, wrapping her fingers around his short hair.

"Tell me your name."

"Why don't you guess and I'll tell you if you're correct."

"Don't play games with me." He jerks his head back to look at her but his voice remains firm and low.

"My name is Carla." She meets his eyes defiantly.

He turns around fully now, picks her up off the bed and sits her on his lap "Your real name."

"Why does it matter?" she adjusts her position on his lap and straddles him. "Isn't this enough?"

"I wanna get lost in you. I wanna figure you out." He murmurs, his eyes searching every inch of her face. He runs his hands over her shoulders, up her neck and tangles his fingers in her long strands.

"What happens when you've figured me out?" her hands glides down his throat and her eyes lock onto his.

"I don't know." He whispers, his breath fanning her lips before claiming her mouth again.

..

 _A/N: Crazy long chapter. I wanted to flesh out some of the plot. Thanks so much for your reviews and follows. They're always appreciated._


	10. When the Sweet Low Dips

**-When the Sweet Low Drips-**

..

Kai wakes up to the sound of water running in the shower.

He takes a moment to really soak in her apartment. There are no drapes on her wall to wall windows so he can see the whole city; lights blazing like it's caught fire. She's an exhibitionist; Kai thinks and finds that he likes the idea.

The wrought iron chandelier with candles hanging from the ceiling above him is unlit and the candles around the bedroom have long since died but he can still smell them. He can still smell the wax on his chest too and he smiles at the memory.

Slowly, he peels himself off the bed and walks around the shattered vase on the floor, the string of clothes they left in their battle. He bents over to pick his pants off the floor and thinks better of it. He likes being naked, he likes walking around in her apartment naked like this. It makes him feel like a part of it, lie he belongs in this space.

Instead he grabs his pants and digs into a pocket for his cigarette case. Quickly he makes a line on the back of his left hand and shoots it up then stares out the massive windows without bothering to tuck away the evidence. Emerging from the bathroom, wet and naked, she leans against the frame of the door and looks him up and down.

"Me taking a shower is usually a signal for you to leave." She says, sounding husky as fuck.

"I'm hungry." Kai tells her, devouring her naked body with his gaze.

"There's a Thai place two blocks from here. I hear they have great duck. You might want to head down there before the dinner crowd swarms the place."

"Another signal for me to leave?"

"Now you're catching on."

He swallows the knot of frustration in his throat as she brushes past him, "Are you usually this cheeky with all your clients?"

"No but I have a hunch that you like it. It turns you on, gets you hard." She throws the sentence over her shoulder and fluffs out her wet hair with her hands. Ignoring her, he picks out a takeout menu that's tagged to the fridge and reaches for his cell phone.

"What're you doing?"

"Calling delivery."

"It's late."

"Do you really want me to leave?" he asks, hoping she'll give him some indication that she likes him, that she enjoys his company as much as he enjoys hers. She lifts the scarf from their tryst off the bed and slips it around her neck, bringing the fabric to her nose to smell his scent.

"I'll have pork fried rice." She tells him.

..

Kai takes a long drag on the cigarette then slowly blows smoke into her mouth. He's satisfied, content with the Thai they had a few minutes ago and happy to still be here with her.

"You were right." He says.

"Right about what?"

"It's no accident we found each other." He studies her over the tendrils of smoke, "We both use sex as a medium of conversation."

"What is it you said before?" he smiles, watching as she takes a sip from her glass "Dejavu is the mind's way of letting you know that you're in the right place at the right time."

"Really what does my body tell you when I'm fucking you?" she asks dryly, her eyes cruel and cold.

"That you hate the world as much as I do." his voice softens then he covers her mouth with his own.

..

She lies flat and long on the bed while the skyline gleams from the window behind her. It's very late but he still won't leave. His phone hasn't ringed which probably means that no one is looking for him or that he's put it on silence.

A small part of her likes that he's still here, likes the fact that some woman is waiting somewhere for him. She's an evil monster like that, taking pleasure in someone else pain.

"I'm so wet you could slide right in." she hears herself speak even though she doesn't sound quite like herself. There's an edge to her voice, an edge that he has awoken.

"Come here." He says, gruff and hungry for her.

When she crawls out of the bed, he stops her with his hand and says, "No, on your hands and knees."

Without question, she obeys and crawls toward him, eyes fixed on his face. His eyes are locked on her, hungry, needy, waiting. When she's finally kneeling in front of him Kai makes sure to keep his eyes on her and her mouth as she takes him all the way in. She licks, sucks and she feels so damn fucking good that he has to stop himself from exploding all over her.

She lifts her head and looks up at him, "Cum" she orders and he has no other choice but to obey.

When he is done climaxing, knees like putty, he pulls her up to her feet and does what he has been yearning to do the minute her tongue touched the tip of his cock.

He drives his hands in her hair and kisses her.

Much later she watches as he gets dressed. He shrugs into his shirt, slips into his pants, his shoes and makes his way to the door. They hold each others gaze and she swallows thickly as he shuts the door behind him.

..


End file.
